Façades That Hide Us
by Shadowing
Summary: Eel. 23 year old SAS soldier in D Unit, training at Brecon Beacons with the occasional nightmare or flashback, hiding some dangerous secrets. Alex. Teenage spy, mental institute escapee, homeless, broken child, with little left to live for and a past of desperation. When the two become one person, it's up to his SAS friends to work out which is the facade...before it's too late...
1. 1st Bit

**Summary; Alex Rider joins the SAS. Under the alias Thomas Smith, and code name Eel, assigned to D Unit as the new dark haired guy claiming to be somewhere in his twenties, a crazy shooter and immature prankster. **

**And only he knows this is all a facade.**

**And only he knows that facades are temporary, and in his heart of hearts he's just waiting for his to fall apart.**

**So... new fanfic. Warnings for language (lots- don't like, don't read), an utter lack of romance, action, mental and physical torture (maybe), PTSD, severe mental problems,insanity of main character, sporadic updates and angst. Possibly more. **

_I saw the light (saw the light) just for fifteen seconds_  
_It burned so bright (burned so bright) I was medicated...**  
15 Seconds, Belasco**_

**Prologue;**

The boy was in solitary confinement, and had been for the past month. He's a sort of legend in this mental facility; MI6 turn up one day, bundle him in and inform the head that he'll be staying there; for the rest of his life.

At first, he was angry. But he didn't seem mad, like the other occupants- just angry, like there was some injustice at being locked away. They tested him and deemed him mentally sound but you don't go back on what MI6 say. You just don't.

Then he had some kind of flashback, and suddenly there was a gun in his hand and he was pointing it at someone and telling them that they should be dead. And why weren't they dead? And he was telling them that he was going to- then security came and off he went to solitary and was no longer thought 'mentally sound'.

So there was understandably chaos when a trail of guards was found unconscious and the boy- one Alex Rider- was gone.

0

CHAPTER ONE

Eel took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fiery ache in his arms. It was fine. He could do this. He could. It was a matter of life and death and he couldn't begin to think of the consequences if he failed. His muscles screaming in pain he unclenched his left hand from the hard iron bar and swung it to the next. Chancing a look down, he gulped as the ground swung closer as he dropped but somehow he managed to flip over and hook his legs around a pole on one side. Taking a rest for a moment, he took a deep breath before hauling himself up by his leg muscles and grabbing onto the bars again with his fingers. Then he took his legs off the pole and hung for a moment. With another deep breath, he slid his right hand up then his left so they both had a proper grip. Faster, his body told him.

In the distance there were gun shots. Gulping, Eel tried to move again but found himself paralysed.

His arms weakened and for a perilous moment he hung by a finger to the burning metal. Then he fell.

The air was knocked out of him as he collapsed, gasping, onto the dusty ground below. Groaning, he squinted up at the bright sun before hauling himself up, still clutching his ribs which had been bruised from the drop.

"Hand it over. Twenty quid." smirked Rat, running up to him. Eel looked back at the assault course he had failed miserably, and spat on the floor.

"S'not fair." he sulked, handing over the money. "You cheated."

"C'mon, Eel, grow up. How did I cheat? You were the one who made the bet."

"You still cheated." Eel protested stubbornly. "I know you did. I can... see it in your eyes."

"Sometimes I wonder how you managed to join the SAS, Eel, I really do."

"So do I." agreed Eel thoughtfully. "Might've been something to do with the fact I'm an escaped mental institute patient and that was the only way they could keep an eye on me- but wait, they don't know that yet, so it must be something else."

"Very funny." grinned Rat. "C'mon, let's go eat dinner."

"If you can call that _dirt _dinner."

"I don't understand how you still can't digest it after just over a year of eating it. Every day."

"Don't remind me. Hey, do you know anything about that new unit coming in a week?"

"New? Nah. This unit's coming back from Iraq. Apparently they're the best. Ever."

"D-"

"No, Eel, you're not pranking them. They're hardened, vicious, in-desperate-need-of-therapy SAS soldiers."

"But-"

"Forget it, Eel. Now let's _go."_

"Jeez, someone's stressy."

"Not too much, after getting an easy twenty quid."

"You cheated!"

"Sure, sure. Now come on."

The two soldiers walked back to the camp, Eel covered in dust from the fall. They made for a curious pair; Eel was short and thin, with unruly black hair and startling blue eyes, a childish nature and boyish face- he looked more a teenager then the 23 year old he claimed to be. Rat, however, was muscled and tall, with long, sandy blonde hair and tanned skin, a face with chiselled features and blunt grey eyes. Though they both had the childish nature in common- any pranks in the SAS camp could usually be traced back to the pair, though the more daring and stupid ones usually belonged to Eel. This was a reason why the pair were not among the most popular in the camp even though if it was ever put to vote, they could probably make the most detested; a stark contrast to their team mates, Lion and Scorpion, the leader and medic in D-Unit, who were liked well enough.

Creeping into the cafeteria, so as not to unnecessarily alert some of their more recent victims of their presence, they slid into place in the queue of men lining up for the dirt some idiot named edible. Eel looked at the wad of notes- _his _hard earned money- poking out of the back pocket of his friend. He sighed as he resisted the temptation to just...pull it out...

It wasn't his fault that his hand twitched towards it and pocketed the money. No, definitely not his fault.

Eel got the usual scowl from the cook as she harshly shoved at him a minuscule amount of _dirt_. Okay, so a few months earlier he'd had a rant at her about the foulness of her cooking- he didn't mean it. It slipped out.

After all, he was Alex Rider, fifteen year old boy, former MI6 agent- sometimes his body did things he couldn't control.

He _was_ officially insane.

000 0 00

Eel and Rat slipped into the bench in front of their team mates. "This is disgusting." groaned Eel, lifting the stuff up with a spoon and letting it fall back into his bowl with a plop. The rest of his unit looked at him despairingly.

"Eel, you've told us that every time we've sat down here to eat. Can you never learn to shut up?" Lion asked him scathingly.

"But it's-"

"-inedible muck, I know." finished Lion wearily. Eel looked at him with wide eyes.

"How did you know I was going to say that?"

"Because you say it every single time. Jesus, Eel, just eat the damn stuff."

Eel looked at the murkiness with a sigh and picked up the tiniest amount, nibbling it before spitting it back into his bowl.

"That's disgusting." scowled Leopard.

"It's disgusting." Eel whined. He continued to moan through mouthfuls, accompanied by a disgusted expression, until the end of the meal; the rest of his unit, for most part, ignored him, used to the same annoying routine which happened every time they ate at the mess hall.

When dessert came Eel finally shut up and hungrily scoffed the (according to him) tiny amount of ice cream. Then he stared at everyone else's portions with longing eyes until they sighed and slid the remainder of their food over to him. "Thanks." he grinned.

Lion sighed, looking at his youngest unit member. He said he was 23 but they all doubted it- more 18 or 19, they guessed amongst themselves- and they were all 25 or 26. And Eel acted like a child, or come to think of it, a typical teenager; with his short attention span, disregard for authority, appetite, long sleeps... that was something that had troubled the unit ever since they had come to care for Eel. His sleep. He had nightmares which they didn't want to think about, which would end with him screaming in terror and blindly reaching for something, or clutching a non existent wound- though it could be something old, since he never let them see his upper body, which was usually where the places he clutched desperately were.

But nightmares were the least of the young man's issues, Lion observed. He had the occasional... flashback, which always ended disastrously. Though the unit had an unspoken rule not to talk about them, they knew how to deal with these sudden episodes by now. The flashbacks consisted of Eel seeing someone from his past- who were dead, judging from Eel's scared questions of 'how are you still alive?'- and Eel reacting to them. Reacting. What a gentle word to use for the way the man would swing punches and kicks and if a gun was near loosen a few shots...

They had tried to get him to see a therapist but at the mention he had run away into the woods for a week. And despite the fact he obviously had issues, he was part of their unit and they would not grass him up. Luckily, they had settled on a compromise; pills to make his sleep dreamless. Though making him go into a deep sleep, so nothing could wake him other than Leopard's hideous socks near his face, and causing a slight head ache in the morning, they worked perfectly. The flashbacks they had no cure for, but they had lessened in frequency recently: the last had been near five months ago.

He was weaker than them in speed and strength, another reason for doubting his age. But the main reason he had gotten into the SAS without any former army experience was because of his amazing skills; unbeatable fighting techniques, seemingly endless stamina and of course his amazing sharp shooting skills. The sergeant had told him to apply elsewhere as a sniper, he was so good at shooting. Especially the way he did it; instinctive shooting, Eel called it- and though he had never revealed how he had learnt it, his unit was pretty sure it was in some illegal way. But Eel had refused the sergeant's suggestion to become a sniper and persistently returned until he was granted a place as the final member in their unit.

Lion remembered when he had first come to them. They had thought he was a visiting son, or brother, of some other soldier because he looked so young and quite frankly terrified- of what, at the time, they thought was them. He'd explained he was their final unit member, Eel. Mortified at the mistake they'd tried to make it up to him, but he was so closed off it was hard to pry anything from him. Come to think of it, it was the flashback that had caused him to open up to them; that was when he had started trusting them, and revealed his true, unfortunately mischievous nature. And habit of making foolish bets with Rat. And stealing the money back off him. A thing Rat did right back to him; it was a ritual, much like the complaints about food, that the unit had gotten used to after a year and few months of living together.

"C'mon, let's go back to the barracks now." Lion announced at the prospect of a food fight became unfortunately evident. "Rat, put that down now. Eel, if you dare throw it it's fifty times on the assault course."

Eel stuck his tongue out childishly but bounced up and followed Lion out to their shared barracks. Rat and Leopard followed, the unit trooping across the dusty ground with the rare heat of English sunshine pounding down on them.

Their barracks were notoriously public to each-other with hard beds (another thing Eel frequently complained about and begged duvets off the others to lay over the metal) and a small radiator being the only source of heat- not that, in this blistering summer day, it was needed, but knowing British weather that could change into a cold drizzle any time- and personal pictures plastered on the walls above each of the men's bunks. Noticeably, Eel had nothing but a Chelsea poster and some author the 'uncultured' other unit members had never heard of.

"I'm crashing." announced Eel. Lion, Rat and Leopard muttered goodnight, used to the youngster's lengthy sleeps.

0 0 00 0 0 00 0 0 00 0 00 0 0

Alex tossed in bed. He was tired, he knew that from the burn in his eyes, but he just couldn't get to sleep.

Frustrated, he leaped out of bed to go and rant at Leopard (despite his name, the most friendly of the unit) because.. he felt like ranting. There were just those times when he needed to shout at someone friendly about his current state of mind, depressed or insanely happy or melancholy or as he was now; stupidly tired, unable to go to sleep and with no one to blame but himself.

And whoever else he could think up to blame. There was Rat, for making the assault course bet which now made him tired, or the cook, for not giving him enough nutrients... actually, he could blame the Sergeant for that... and Lion, for being the only one not to give up most of his ice cream-

Their sleeping quarters was empty. Confused, Alex padded silently outside, slipping on a pair of trainers."Guys?" he said loudly. "You there?" No one was around. Alex frowned. There was absolutely no one. Usually he could hear someone training, or other units talking... but there was no one around. "'Kay, jokes over, guys." he said uncertainly. He strode towards the shooting range and peered cautiously in the store where the guns were kept. Usually there was someone guarding them but this time there was no one. A feeling of foreboding overcame him as he suddenly felt cold despite the warmth of the July humidity (which was.. was it crystallising? Into a thousand shimmering crystals hanging suspended in the air around him, just what the hell was happening?)

Something was wrong.

With senses on high alert (how cliché that phrase was, he thought absently to himself) Alex- or Eel, depending on how much you knew- crept forwards, searching for someone, anyone, in the camp as the sun began to set. As the golden rays turned to darkness (too fast thought Alex, the first beginnings of suspicion beginning to snake up his spine) Alex broke into a run, throwing open doors and lifting up tent flaps, his breath coming out faster as his worst fear had been realised; _they had all left him._

"No, we haven't." said a quiet voice. Alex whirled around to see-

"Jack?" And she was there, in her beautiful liveliness, red hair drifting up (how could it, though?) and skin pristine and white (but she was darker then that, just a bit... she wasn't that pale, right?) and the best thing was that she was alive. _Alive._

"Alex." her face brightened into a smile (why did it seem so fake?) "You've no idea how much I've missed you... god, you went to America? And you didn't tell me?" she was still smiling. And that statement was just so... Jack. She ran towards him and suddenly they were hugging and this wasn't a hallucination because he could _fee__l _her, her wonderful warmth and her fingers were grasping him and she was saying "Oh Alex, I've missed you so much," and he was saying "I thought you were dead, I missed you too, I can't believe you're back," and that was the thing, he just couldn't quite believe it... but she was there, alive, so he forgot about his suspicions and just hugged her and let the tears run down his face. Because she wasn't, because she didn't die. Here she was and-

-and something was tearing through his shirt with a ripping sound. A more gruesome ripping sound which he knew only too well, of _flesh, _was heard as something sharp was carving it's way into his back. When he looked down there was a tip of bloodied metal poking out from his stomach and despite everything he had to close his eyes for a moment to hold in his disgust.

"Jack?" he gasped as what had just occurred made itself fully comprehensible to him. Something hot was soaking his shirt. Almost in slow motion, she stepped away from him, a bloody knife in her hand. "Jack?" he repeated again, his voice still not fully betrayed, still holding the notes of surprise. And there was still relief, that she was alive... but she had stabbed him?

Her face contorted into a scowl. "You killed me, Alex." she hissed. "You made me stay to look after you and I ended up dead. It's all YOUR FAULT." Alex stumbled forwards, wanting her to catch him, but she stepped away again. Another stab of betrayal struck him. It was worse then the physical pain because this was _Jack. _Alex sank to his knees with a thud. He felt distant and light headed as he stared up at his former guardian. This was just like a film... except there would never be a happy ever after, no explanations because this was _Jack, _and...

"It's... not my fault.." he managed. It wasn't. It wasn't.

"Yes, it is." her face contorted again and seemed to morph into Ian's.

"Such a failure." his uncle was saying morosely. "Faking yourself, living a lie... your team mates trust you, Alex. How can you betray them like this?"

But he wasn't the one betraying, no, it wasn't his fault. How could they twist this round? And where had Jack gone, Jack who betrayed him... he was dying. He was dying. He might have contemplated suicide once or twice but he didn't want to _die. _He was too young... "Never too young to die." Ian said mercilessly. "And your unit..."

"No..." he croaked. "Lion... Lion, I'm sorry. Rat? Leopard? I lied, okay... please forgive me..."

"Tell them the truth." demanded Ian.

"But I- okay, I'm not who you think I am, I'm Alex... no, they can't know.."

Then suddenly he was in a glass cage and Ian (or was it Jack?) was gone and water was pooling around him and no it was blood, blood from the people he had killed and it was so hot, scalding hot, and it was burning him and it hurt _so b__ad_ and no it was rising so fast and it was on his chest and he was thrashing about and bumped into something round and lolling... it was the head of... it was Yassen and the deceased man was staring lifelessly with blank eyes which Alex couldn't tear his own horrified gaze away from until it went back under the surface and, oh god, the blood was rising and it was over his head and he couldn't _breath _oh god he didn't want to die but he couldn't _breath _he _couldn't breath_


	2. 2nd Stuff

_Oh, you go to sleep when you're scared and you  
Wake each day with your thoughts and it  
Scares you being alone it's a last resort...  
**Sleepsong, Bastille**  
_

"Eel. Eel, wake up!" Rat shook his flailing friend. The young man continued to thrash around in his bunk and scream loudly, with pure terror in his voice. Looking back at his team members despairingly, he shook his head. "We'll just have to wait for him to wake up."

"No, let me try something." said Lion, worried creases in his tanned forehead. He stepped forwards and Rat moved aside. Walking up to Eel, Lion hesitated before reaching up his hand and lightly slapping him across the face.

It had an instant effect, Eel sitting bolt upright and opening his eyes to reveal wildly rolling eyeballs, like something out of a horror movie- that inevitable scene whenever someone gets possessed by the vengeful demon. It still seemed Eel was asleep, even though he bent over and retched. His unit members stepped back to avoid the puddle as Eel flopped onto the floor and lay still, his eyes closing. "Eel?" Leopard said uncertainly.

"Not my fault..." Eel whispered. "It wasn't my fault!" Rat stepped forwards and crouched next to Eel.

"No, it wasn't." he soothed. All three conscious men were shocked when tears began running down Eel's face. They had _never _seen him cry before.

"Lion..." he said suddenly.

"Eel? You awake?"

But it seemed he was just muttering in his sleep. Though it could be seen as an invasion of privacy, the other unit members listened intently. "Lion... I'm sorry. Rat?" he took in a deep, shuddering breath. The men exchanged disturbed yet curious glances. "Leopard? I lied, okay..." his hand shot out and seemed to grab something in front of him. "Please forgive me..." he seemed to pause, as if waiting for an answer.

"Of course we do." answered Leopard softly, almost unconsciously.

"But I- okay, I'm not who you think I am, I'm Alex..."

"Who?" asked Rat. "I thought his actual name was Thomas?"

"Seems like, as he just said, he was lying to us." Lion said with a grimly sarcastic smile.

Eel stirred. "No, they can't know.." he gasped. "NO!" he screamed again, then started thrashing. An eerie keening rose from his mouth and his friends stepped back, alarmed. Then he started choking, gasping on something invisible.

Rat was the closest to Eel. Though they'd seen the nightmares frequently, it had never been this bad. Uncomfortable, Rat backed away. "I can't watch this anymore." he muttered, looking sadly at Eel who was now gasping for his throat and begging someone to let him live, that no, please, he was too young to die. Turning around, Rat half walked, half ran out of the barracks.

Neither Lion nor Leopard stopped him.

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 000000000000000000000000

When Alex shuddered into consciousness, he was filled with a burning relief that it was a dream. Thank god, it was all a dream.

He struggled to remember where he was, panicking for a moment at the unfamiliar surroundings. Then he spotted Leopard asleep on a chair next to him, a dirty rag covered in sick hanging out for his hand. From the bitter taste in his mouth, Eel guessed it was probably him.

Tiptoeing quietly so as not to wake the man, Alex washed his face with the water. For once he was glad of the faultiness of the water heaters; the water coming in jerks out of the tap was frigid and icy, perfect for distracting him from thinking about...

"Eel?" A voice asked behind him, in the middle of a yawn. "You 'wake?"

"Uh... yeah." Alex said nervously, spinning round to face Leopard. "Where's Rat and Lion?"

"Rat went off a few minutes ago and Lion's gone to get him. He was a bit disturbed after your... nightmare." Leopard finished awkwardly and for a moment Alex couldn't think of anything to say. He was saved by a door slamming open and two mud caked, soaking figures stumbling in. "Hey, Eel." said Lion tiredly. "Feeling better?"

"Um..."

"We need to talk. All of us." Rat announced obviously over his 'disturbance' a fact evident by the glimmer in his eyes.

"Shoot." Alex nodded with fake casualty, but inside was burning up with fear. What had he said in the dream, out loud? Was he really going to be found out- after barely a year?

"What's your name?"

"Eel." said Alex uncomfortably, knowing where this was leading to.

"Your real name."

"Thomas Smith."

"What about... Alex?"

Alex couldn't help flinching at the words. A triumphant smile appeared on Rat's face. "So?"

"Well... I... that used to be my name, yes." he admitted, brain working furiously to make up a plausible excuse. "But after some stuff happened... I didn't want it anymore. I wanted to start again. So I changed it."

After all, he thought proud at his ready made lie, the best falsehoods are mostly truth with a bit of... tweaking. Which was what he had done. Actually, he hadn't lied at all; merely missed out a few rather crucial and large details.

"So," spoke up Leopard. "Explain why you had a nightmare. Why didn't you take the pills?"

"I... ran out." Alex explained, raking a hand through his hair. He didn't know he'd have nightmare _that _soon; he thought he'd last a little longer, at least.

"Ran out? Why didn't you buy some more?"

This was a sore point for Alex. After all, who liked being completely and utterly stone broke? "Um.. I can't afford it." he practically whispered the last part. Though he had a couple of quid to use for the basics; food, clothing, and of course the thing he needed most, petty cash to use for bets with Rat, he had no where near enough to pay for the expensive dreamless pills.

"Fine. We'll buy it for you." said Lion decisively.

"No!" Alex protested. "I'm not getting money off you!"

"You're not. We're just buying pills."

"You're not treating me like some kind of charity case! I'm not a kid!" Alex shouted. This would be a perfect time to storm out, but somehow he didn't think it would help matters much. And of course there was the fact he _was _a kid.

"Yes, but this affects the whole unit. You're not allowed to disturb us all. Look at us now; one nightmare you've had and we're arguing already. Anyway, I order you to accept it as team leader, or I'm booting you off the team."

"Yes, sir." Alex grinned.

Who knew that so soon after a nightmare he could feel so happy?

0

Most of the units had left the mess hall by the time D- unit had gotten there. They grabbed their slightly cold breakfasts in the metal army tins- the only thing that the movies got right- and sat down around the table. Breakfast, for some reason, was usually a better tasting meal than lunch or dinner, but Eel still found something to complain about. "This tastes like horse meat." he groaned, glaring at the fried strips of bacon (a rare luxury in the SAS, as they were kept on a strict diet- it was probably the anniversary of someone or other's death so they got nice food.) as if they were physically hurting him.  
"Probably is." Lion sniggered, recalling the massive scandal. "And these were from Tesco, so who knows what's in them?"  
"How'd you know that?" pointed out Leopard sensibly.  
Lion shrugged. Eel sighed theatrically and continued shoving food into his mouth at an alarmingly fast rate, despite his complaints. Rat was engaged with crawling under the table to find his boot, which an attempt to kick Lion in the table had resulted in it being pulled off while Lion calmly continued the conversation.

"Found it!" said Rat finally, popping up. He finished his breakfast as the rest of the unit waited impatiently for him.

At last the unit exited the mess hall. Eel bent down to secure his laces which had been trailing in the mud which seemed to be always present in the SAS camp, even with the rare sunny days July had presented them with- of course, it was England, and so destined to be cold and wet and eternally without regular sun.

When he stood up again, the rest of the unit had disappeared round the of the mess hall, presumably heading towards wherever the first thing on their training lives was. Eel sprinted after them.

0

The unit jogged down to the shooting range, the next thing on their tight schedules. Eel was grinning, as he always did when they went on something he was good at, and for once wasn't whining about everything.

The shooting instructor (as usual) gave Eel a high standard gun and let him go on whatever he wanted (they'd tried making him teach some other units but when his frequent sarcastic comments, put downs and insulting innuendos had caused him to be beaten up a few times by a group of men he'd insulted- not after, of course, the individual assaults where they all got their 'asses kicked' by Eel, then joined to assault him as one- they'd decided to leave it. Another reason was that he wasn't very helpful with his unusual instinctive style of shooting and refused to divulge where he'd been taught it, mumbling some nonsense about his father though it was common knowledge his father died shortly after he was born) while the rest of the unit started trying their hand at the advanced shooting range. This consisted of moving targets shaped as human figures, strapped in body armor. If you got between the cracks in the armor or managed to hit the unprotected points you moved onto the next level; the same thing but moving faster.

A year and a bit on the SAS camp had shown only a little difference in their status' as shooters; completely mediocre, only just good enough to secure a place in SAS. Luckily, it was Eel who had the sharpshooter position in their particular unit so that wasn't a big thing to worry about.

Alex weighed the gun in his hands, suddenly apprehensive as everyone turned away from him to start their respective training. He didn't know why he was so reluctant; he'd managed to dispel his fear of guns a long while ago, and flashbacks had hardly ever happened because of them. He realized that guns didn't kill people, people killed people, but still the _feel _of that thing in his hand, the smooth, primed killing machine that could take away a life just like _that_- a whole life, gone. The person would never laugh or breath or speak again, never feel alive or cry and who knew what happened after you die? That was another whole philosophical branch he was confused about and so wanted to leave alone, the whole issue of god and afterlife and heaven and hell, and yes he knew that... no, he wasn't going to think about it. But what if when you killed a person, when a gun sent a bullet that ploughed into the flesh of a human, tearing through with a lush, ripe sound and splattering a hot liquid turned red from it's exposure to the atmosphere and cooling rapidly, like the corpse it used to belong to- what if that dead person was stuck forever in eternal agony, in that body? Trapped inside a coffin or burning and unable to scream or handled into an unmarked grave and feeling that earth choking you, smothering you, unable to move as the worms began to gnaw...

What if he had done that to someone? And he knew maybe it wasn't, maybe it was, Alex knew that he didn't want to think about after life but he was thinking about this gun. These guns, which had killed so many.  
Just like him. He had killed so many.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ Alex asked himself furiously. He wasn't depressed any more. That was over. Done with. The gun was just a gun, a tool, just that.

Taking a deep breath, he looked down at the metal in his hands. Then he loaded a clip in and clicked the safety off.

Alex strode over to a dummy, left haphazardly leaning against the fence. Decayed and mouldy, it no longer resembled an outline of a person but rather a hunk of wood with four stubs and a jagged wooden ball atop the thing. He straightened it out, jogged further back, turned around and closed his eyes. _I'm in a... corridor. _He thought to himself, gun clenched in his hand. _I hear a noise behind me. Everyone in this place is an enemy. I turn... _eyes still clenched, he spun, in one lithe movement. _I shoot. _His finger squeezed the trigger the second he stopped turning. A spray of seven black bullets tore through the air to embed themselves in the dummy, with a hollow thud. His finger instantly let go, his hands holding the gun steady and ignoring the kick of the gun.

Alex opened his eyes and walked over to the dummy, unconsciously reverting into assassin stealth mode, silent as he strode. In the dummy, a bullet had embedded itself where the heart would be. Another had hit a crucial artery in the arm. One in the head, and one more each exactly over all three pinpoint black holes.

One more had gone completely wide, just skimming the 'hand' and implanting itself in the fence post behind.

He always missed that last one, when he was nervous. A jerk of his hand, a twitch sent the last bullet spiralling wildly off range. He'd thought the twitch was under control. Alex had made sure of it, before he applied to get into SAS. Because at the crucial time, it could get him killed. Others killed. And now...

It was a one off, he reprimanded himself sternly. Won't happen again. Maybe it was the frighteningly vivid dream he had last night, or... yeah, it must've been that.

Sure enough, when Alex went back to grab a few more clips and started shooting at the dummy again, he didn't miss. Not once.

0

Rat grinned as he presented a grumpy looking Lion with his target board; all three shots, straight in the bulls eye. (Rat blatantly disregarded the other discarded target boards from before, the shots all over the place- after all, it was only the end result that counted.) "Look!" he grinned happily, shoving it in Lion's face. "Bullseye! Times three! And the magnificent Rat strikes again! Soon I'll have to take over Eel's position, you know-"

"Whose gonna take over my position?" asked Eel, jogging up. Rat turned to face his comrade with his characteristic beaming smile- except this was more of a smug, I-ate-the-cream smirk.

"Look! All three, bullseye. First time. Okay, not first time, but near enough. _And, _Eel, you owe me fifty quid. Remember last week? You bet I couldn't do it!"

"Fine, fine." sighed Eel. He took a bunch of notes from his back pocket, counted them out slowly and thrust them at Rat. "Seeing as they're the money I stole off you in the mess hall yesterday, I suppose you can have it back."

Rat shrugged off the mention of stealing his money with nothing more then a slight, dramatized gasp, because by now stealing betting money off each-other was the regular thing to do, and ran over to Leopard, who was practising dismantling his rifle, to show him both the achievements and goods.

Lion turned to Eel, who was staring at his hands with a disgusted yet somehow terrified expression. "Eel? You okay?" he asked the younger man gently.

"I-yeah, I'm fine." Eel quickly shook himself out of it and offered a slightly hesitant grin to his unit leader. "What's next on the agenda?"

"Assault course."

"Great." Eel said sarcastically, miserable at the prospect of his least favorite activity on the camp. Lion grinned.

"C'mon, or we'll be late."

And you were never late, particularly with the rumours that today was the sergeant's prowling day- woe betides any stragglers not at their assigned place promptly. The dark skinned man was notorious for his harsh punishments, especially if they were about slacking off.

0

The man stroked his chin thoughtfully. "This will be interesting, to say the least." he mused. "I wonder how long Alex- or rather, Eel- can keep up his identity once some of his old friends arrive."

"We made the deal with MI6 to leave him alone." A woman said sharply, her painted nails tapping against the surface of the varnished wood table.

"Yes, of course- but who are we to call ourselves terrorists if we make deals with the government? Or worse, honour them?"

"But-"

"I won't do anything right now." the man assured her, flashing a brilliant smile. "For now, I will regard it as entertainment. And I might- in the future- let a few... snippets of information into the right ears and make that boy's life hell." he stated the last part coldly, with a sadistic smirk on his handsome face. "And then... we shall see."

The woman closed her eyes, as if pained, but instantly a picture flashed up of her dead lover. That boy had killed him. Didn't she remember her screaming vow for revenge when she heard the news?

"That sounds perfect." she sneered. The man smiled, accustomed to her sudden mood changes and attributing it to remembering her dead lover, and his acquaintance and only trusted co worker (in this respectable business of terrorism.) "Please keep me updated."

"Certainly." he replied smoothly. "Do you want to hear the current state of affairs?"

"Yes."

"The boy is, as you know, in SAS under the false name of Thomas Smith and code name Eel. He also says he is of legal age, even though he is only fifteen. His unit have been sent on four missions so far, all classified low risk and successful. They're due to go to Iraq in two years, however. Our sources say that his unit know he is unusual and has a difficult past," both occupants of the lavish dining room laughed at this, "but don't press. However, Alex trained with a unit. This unit is said to be the best of the best and recently came back from a traumatising experience in a place we haven't discovered yet. In a week or so, they'll be going back the training camp, Beacon Brecons, Alex currently stays at. However, I doubt they'll recognise him as he only saw them for short stretches of time, but we shall see."

"And if they don't?" the woman prompted.

"We shall let slip a few crucial, pointed bits of information... perhaps to one of the units on a mission. And when they go back to training..."

Simultaneous smiles spread across the perfect faces of the two famous faces that led Scorpia.

They both picked up their flutes of golden champagne and gave a toast to revenging their comrade, and making an enemy completely destroyed.

**EDITED 13TH MARCH 2013.**

**Some stuff I need to tell you guys; I'll reply to _some_ signed reviews. Meaning I won't reply to stuff like 'Update!' or 'love it!' though if you say 'hate it' I'll probably respond with some scathing comment. But I like responding with scathing comments, so feel free to send flames.**

**Eh... in the middle of this chapter somewhere there's a massive load of words in a pair of brackets. Not sure if that's bad grammar or whatever, review with suggestions to improve if it is. One of the main reasons I'm writing this is to improve my grammar and vocabulary; please help!**

**Thanks so much guys who've followed and reviewed and stuff.**

**So, um. **

**UK people, got the horse meat reference?**

**So please review and follow and favourite and all that stuff. See ya!**


	3. And 3rd

_Would you believe me if I said I was dying?  
Of this...  
Well here we go now, one more time-  
**Sick Cycle Carousel, Lifehouse**  
_

Rat smirked as he glanced behind him to see a row of his unit members; Lion, almost catching up with him, Leopard, easily swooping through- damn, he'd overtaken Rat- and the object of Rat's amusement, Eel, who was growling at the monkey bars he couldn't get past. Rat watched as Eel eventually took a sneaky look around to check no one was watching (Rat averted his eyes at that point) and hurriedly ran to the end of the bars, climbing up to continue on the wall like he'd completed it.

Taking a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, Rat continued wading through the thick mud and hauled himself out onto the nets. These were hanging precariously between a frame of thick metal bars, with wide gaps to fall through if you weren't careful. Leopard was already darting on top of the nets, showing off with a spin and landing on his feet at the end of it. Rat scowled at Leopard's mocking bow and strove even harder, scowling even more as Lion overtook him.

Eventually all of them were at the end of the assault course and gasping on the ground (save Leopard, who was unruffled and calm as ever) and gulping down conspicuous amounts of water. Lion then, with relief evident in his tone, informed them that they were forgoing the combat training to meet the returning unit, whom they had evidently been partnered with. This was a new scheme SAS had thought up, partnering long time unit's with those who hadn't been there for long and assigning barracks next to each-other. Their unit, D unit, had been partnered with this homecoming one. Apparently they had been on a high risk mission and been captured, then escaped, and awarded a medal of some sort.

"So, what're they called?" Eel asked.

"You mean their letter? No idea. The leader's called Dog, though. I think." Lion replied.

"Dog? It's not. It's Wolf, idiot."

Eel's face went completely white. "Eel?"

Eel muttered something and ran off.

"What's up with him?"

"Who knows. C'mon, We'll meet him at the barracks."

"I remember what the unit was called! It's K unit."

"Ohhh, aren't they those amazing ones sergeant's always telling us to be like?"

"Yeah. Huh, I hope Eel doesn't prank them."

"He better not."

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Alex listened distantly to D unit's conversation. "Dog? It's not." Rat was saying. Then Alex spotted someone.

A while ago Alex had played a prank on F unit. It involved gay pride pamphlets, pink spray paint, and lots of glitter. This was just another in the on going feud between Alex/Eel and Bear; Bear was a huge light skinned man who was amazing at hand to hand fighting. It had started when in a bout against Eel, Bear had taken offence when Eel had beaten him, saying the skinny little runt couldn't possibly beat him fairly. When he demanded a rematch and Eel had refused, also adding in a few insults, the animosity between Bear and Eel had began.

Since then, Alex had been beaten up a number of times (Bear being the only one who could actually do it) and had also thrown his fair share of punches and pranks. Right now, Alex had done something daring a few days ago, and had been avoiding Bear ever since, hoping to avoid the repercussions.

And now, Bear was here. Menacingly waving a fist at Eel he had taken a few steps towards him, causing Alex to start in fright and run.

Alex ran past the assault course and into the barracks, hoping to escape into the woods. In the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Bear running after him. Luckily, the big man didn't have much for speed on his side so was soon out of sight.

Remembering the appointment with their new partner unit Alex turned to go back to his barracks and meet them. Then two thick arms encircled him and he was pulled back. Barely managing to keep in a squeal of terror (how unmanly) Alex sent a hard elbow into the stomach of his assailant. The arms loosened for a fraction of a second. Alex barely paused to notice Jaguar (another of F unit- maybe the gay thing wasn't such a good idea, if the whole unit had taken offence) before running off, into the woods.

Thin branches whipped against his face as he ran through the well trodden path. Alex knew better then to divert from the main path; it was easy to get lost in these thick, shadowed woods and though the other prospect was getting into a potential fight, he really didn't want to face the humiliation of getting lost again. Yes, again. There was that incident when...

Alex felt blood rise to his face and shook his head angrily to get rid of those embarrassing thoughts, ducked to narrowly avoid a heavy overhanging branch, and ran on.

The path wound steadily deeper into the woods. Alex felt his breath coming out in harsh pants. Feeling he was far away enough from any of the F unit, he sank against an old oak and took a moment to rest.

Thudding was heard behind him. Alex leapt up but a punch was already landed against his head. The world span and he distantly lashed out, depressingly weak as Falcon, yet another member of F unit, pummelled him easily to the ground, with the advantage of the surprise attack.

Alex didn't gain his formidable reputation by letting a surprise attack beat him, however. Once he regained his head and the ringing stopped, Alex leaped up and swept Falcon's feet out from under him. The man went down with an _oomph. _Alex quickly kicked him onto his front and twisted the man's arms up behind him into a lock.

"Hey, Falcon." he greeted the man wearily. "How did you know I'd come into the woods?"

"Bear said he'd drive you towards it. Listen, Eel, back up's coming soon so you might as well let me up now and I won't beat ya too hard."

"Right." Eel drawled. "I'll be doing that, obviously. Not. The gay thing wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Erm... let's say, Bear has a strong... dislike of the homosexual."

Alex winced. He, himself, didn't care much if someone was straight or decidedly bent, because it was their personal business. Alex was definitely not gay, but he had no prejudice against those who were... he had neglected to remember the fact as he played the prank that Bear, unfortunately, did...

"Oops." he said sheepishly. "You're not angry, though?"

Falcon suddenly reared up and with a pained growl, broke the lock and put his hands around Alex's throat. "Sure I'm not." he grinned. "Yes. Of course I am. Do you know how foolish we looked? BEAR! I've GOT HIM! JAGUAR! SHARK!"

Alex felt his head go numb but managed to lift his leg up to knee the man in the crotch. With a groan, Falcon fell to the floor.

But the damage was done. The rest of F unit had come running at the shout. Jaguar came into the part of the woods Alex was in. Alex turned but Bear was right behind him, having caught up from behind. Shark was coming from the other way. He was stuck.

Bear strode up and punched Alex in the face. A horrible crack was heard in the otherwise silence of the woods. Alex clasped his hands over his bleeding nose but kicked Bear in the stomach and tried to run.

Shark swung at him and Alex was sent flying. Knocking against a tree, he groaned as he lay on the floor, too bruised to move for the moment.

When he had regained his strength F unit were towering over him, smiling grisly...

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The seven men sat in their barracks. K unit and D unit, new partners. There was an uncomfortable silence as three quarters of D unit observed K unit's horrific scars and haunted eyes that were flicking all over the place and K unit fidgeted slightly, uncomfortable with the small atmosphere after their experiences with the horror still fresh in their minds.

Eventually a strong, Hispanic looking man started introducing his unit. "Hi, we're K-unit. I'm Wolf, this is Snake," the wiry man in the corner nodded. "Eagle," the said man stood and bowed. "The idiot of our unit," there was an indignant snort as Eagle sat back down again. "And Monkey." True to his name, the more recent member of K-unit was decidedly small (though not as small as Eel) and not as muscled as the rest of the unit. But his scars were far, far worse.

"Nice to meet you." Rat said, uncharacteristically polite. He wondered where Eel was. "I'm Rat, that's Lion, Leopard, and..."

Suddenly the door burst open and a figure burst in. He rolled on the ground and lay groaning for a second before springing up, slamming the door and locking it. Then he sank down and Rat finished his introduction with; "And that is Eel." Eel groaned again. He staggered over to the first aid box, seemingly still unaware of the visitors, and tore open a pack of plasters, slapped them onto his arms and stumbled over to the table. In the middle was a bottle of pain killers.

The seven other men watched bemusedly as the injured man struggled with the top, one hand clasped over his nose which was bleeding and an eye swollen shut. Finally he sank onto the bed next to Rat and handed it to him. "Open it." he demanded, his voice slightly slurred. Rat complied and Eel sighed thankfully as he downed five or so dry.

"I'm not sure you're meant to have that much..." Rat told him hesitantly.

"Don't care." Eel said. Then he caught sight of K unit. "Uh... who're you?"

"Our partner unit. Remember?" Lion said. "And where have you been?"

"Uh... remember that gay pride thing? With F unit? Let's just say they caught up with me."

All of D unit let out simultaneous sighs of comprehension.

"So, um, yeah, I'm Eel..." Eel turned towards K unit. "Oh, shit." he gasped. "K unit?"

"Yeah, nice to meet you." Wolf said, a slight undertone of sarcasm lacing his words. "How did you know we're K-Unit?"

"Wolf?" Eel asked weakly, completely ignoring Wolf's question.

"Yeah..."

"Hey, do we know you?" Snake suddenly asked. Eel looked up with a wide, frightened eyes (the other was swollen shut- thanks due to Bear).

"Noooo, no, definitely not, never seen you in my life..." Eel gabbled frantically, standing up and sliding away from K-Unit.

"Are you sure? You look familiar." Snake frowned.

"Uh uh. I just.. have to go..." Eel stumbled over to the locked door. "Oh yeah." he muttered, staring miserably at it. F-Unit were on the other side. He couldn't go out. Turning back to the men, he looked at them cautiously. "I.. uh..."

D unit was looking curiously at him, knowing something was up. Snake was still frowning at him. Wolf also had a spark of remembrance in his eyes. Eagle was holding up a finger, mouth open as if he was about to say something.

And then;

"Cub?"

There was a moment of silence. "Whose Cub?" Eel asked fearfully, then escaped into the bathroom.

"That was... interesting." Lion observed.

"Who _is _Cub?" Leopard asked Eagle, who had glanced up, seen Eel and asked the question.

"He was this kid. Last year, he came to training with us. No idea why, he just did. The last time we saw him was snowboarding on an ironing board down a mountain. And Eel looks real familiar, like him... except no, Cub had blonde hair." Rat's eyes, for some reason, widened at the last comment.

"And Cub is way younger then him." agreed Wolf. "Still, why was your friend- Eel- acting so weirdly?"

"Oh, that's just... Eel. If you wanna know why he was beaten up, he annoys people a lot. I guess F unit caught up with him." Leopard answered nonchalantly. Everyone winced as sounds of retching came from the bathroom.

"We better go." Wolf said decisively. "See you tomorrow? At breakfast?"

"Sounds good." Lion said. Eagle stood and stretched. "See ya guys, then." He unlocked the door and walked out. The rest of his unit muttered 'bye's' and followed him.

Eel came out of the bathroom, cleaned up a bit. "They gone?" he asked.

Rat grinned at him. It wasn't a friendly grin. Or a mischievous grin. It was more of a grin of someone who knows something. The grin of an interrogator.

"We need to talk... about the fact the only difference between you and this 'Cub' is blonde hair..."

Eel gulped.

"And I know you use hair dye."

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K-Unit trooped back to their barracks. Wolf stepped in first, looking around at the thin layer of dust that had settled around the room in their year long absence.

He shivered at the remainder of what they had done on that _year. _

Eagle looked at the bags stacked in the middle of the room miserably. "I hate unpacking." he moaned. "And it stinks in here." That, at least, was true; a musty smell had invaded with the dust, horribly familiar to the four men who on their _absence _had developed a sort of fear for this scent- it meant small spaces, generally, and their mission had installed in them a more then slight sense of claustrophobia.

Wolf scowled at the remainder and walked over to the trunk he knew that their bathroom supplies were in. Opening it roughly, he took out a canister of body spray and pushed his finger on the nozzle, sending a thin cloud of perfumed scent round the room. Though his unit starting coughing exaggeratedly, the smell was definitely banished from the room.

K Unit stood around before getting onto their knees and opening the pile of suitcases, backpacks and other assorted bags that lay in the middle of the room. Once they were all open the four men started pulling out the things inside, chucking them to the respective owner and ambling around the room to place some stuff in the places needed.

Eagle cursed as the can of soda he had just opened fizzed out onto the mound of clothes in front of him. "You shouldn't have put the clothes there." sighed Monkey after Eagle's extensive and incessant swearing started to wear on his nerves Eagle simply gave Monkey a foul look and continued producing expletives, making no move to clean up the mess.

And so began the long and exasperating task of unpacking.

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The man climbed out of bed and started pulling on his suit for the day. He buttoned up his pristine white shirt and shrugged on a suit, knotting a tie neatly around his neck. He walked out of the room. In front of the doorway, he pushed his feet into a pair of smart loafers and opened the door into the sunlight.

He stepped out just as a sleek limousine pulled up in front of him. Patting the waist band of his trousers to certain himself of the gun hidden there, he opened the door and slid in, with a curt nod to the driver.

When he arrived at his destination he took a moment to clear his face of emotions. Climbing out of the car, he stepped into the long drive leading up to an extravagant mansion. Walking up confidently, he knocked on the door; three quick, sharp, raps.

It opened instantly. He was ushered into a room, around of which was seated several other men and woman, as smartly dressed as him. Taking a place in his seat, he waited patiently for the meeting to start.

After a while, a man walked in and sat at the head of the table. "Good morning." he said, voice perfectly articulate with no hint of accent. "Many thanks for attending this meeting. Let us start instantly."

"As you know, an assassination is soon to take place. It-"

Ben Daniels agreed whole heartedly with this statement. "I'm afraid it has been brought forwards." he said coldly, standing up. Drawing the gun from his waist band, he shot the man at the head of the table three times in the head. "I hope you have a wonderful rest of the day." he said politely, to the stunned occupants of the room. "Thank you, once more, for attending this meeting."

Then he ran out, his loafers clapping against the polished marble hallways, and sprinted out of the front door. Dodging a couple of poorly aimed bullets from the startled guards, he went down the drive and opened the door of the waiting limousine. Flinging himself into the front seat, he just remembered to secure his seatbelt as the car roared off.

His phone rang. Surprised at the quick response to the finish of his mission, he picked up the mobile. "Ben Daniels?"

"Yes. Hello, Mrs Jones."

"I trust you have completed the assassination." Ben fought his wince at the word. He preferred 'mission'.

"Yes. You have another task for me?"

"We have intelligence on Alex Rider."

"I..." Ben was lost for words. A familiar lump had appeared in his throat at the mention of his former friend, who had died on a mission. "I thought he's dead?"

"Well, Ben, I'm sorry to tell you we lied. Rider had actually been admitted to a mental institute, and-"

"WHAT?"

"Please keep your temper under control. As I was saying, Rider had been classified insane. Then he escaped the institute. We don't know where he is but we think that a man in SAS, Thomas Smith, knows something about it. You will travel to your old training camp immediately, and go to the sergeant for further orders." And she slammed the phone down.

Ben stared monotonously at the device in his hand. Alex was alive? And mad?

Just what the hell had happened to the poor boy?

He dialled a number. "Hey, Wolf. Seems like I'll be seeing you sooner then I thought..."

**And the plot thickens... next chapter look forwards to a certain Fox coming back to visit, K-Unit glory, Eel running away from everyone, Scorpia releasing those aforementioned snippets of information to a certain F-Unit... It's gonna get exciting..(maybe, no guarantees about any info in this paragraph. Plans will change.) Review!**

**Thank you guys so much for the encouraging and helpful reviews. That, complied with the fact today is WORLD BOOK DAY, made me guilted (yeah, that's not a word... whatever, you get the gist) into attempting to write a chapter.**

**EDITED AS OF 13TH MARCH 2013. OK, NOW IT'S THE 15TH.**

**Just in case you don't understand it properly, Eel _doesn't _hear the stuff about Wolf. You'll see.**

**Um, also, plasters are British for Band Aid. I think. Not really sure what a Band aid is, but I think it's an American plaster. Please correct me if I'm wrong.**

**Replies to reviews; I won't reveal the ending to anyone. Bear in mind there will be a sequel, so Alex won't die. Foreshadow-of-dusk, thanks for the advice. Because of everyone who mentioned K unit coming back in this chapter I will give that to you, though I wasn't planning on it. Thanks to everyone who said they liked my representation of Alex! I do too.**

**Um... okay, I guess that's it. Third chapter!**


	4. Go 4th (and Read)

_And they scream-  
__The worst things in life come free to us  
_**_The A Team, Ed Sheeran_  
**

When Alex woke up he had a massive headache. Groaning, he stumbled over to where the pills were kept and through bleary, half opened eyes gulped down some Paracetamol. His nose started sending painful jolts through his head. Groaning again, he put his hand to it, and was surprised and shocked to find it come away bloody.

All the events from yesterday rushed back into his head, in a decidedly book like fashion- you know when they say 'and suddenly I remembered everything- the *****insert event* and the *insert next event* of the previous day'- a wry grin twisted Alex's mouth at the weird comparison, then a scowl as he recalled the conversation with his unit when K unit had gone, about the whole Cub thing and hair dye. Admittedly, it wasn't a conversation, more him gabbling out garbled excuses that confused his friends so much they didn't stop him when he ended it with shouting at them to 'leave him alone' and stormed out- with the classic slamming door at the end of his little tirade.

Once he was outside, a horrible feeling had crept up on his spine as he glimpsed the figures of F unit retiring to their barracks after waiting for him to finish the beating- before they noticed him, he ran back inside, announcing to Alex's still confounded unit members that he was going to bed.

And to bed he went.

And now in the morning- Alex looked at his watch to note that it was indeed the morning, though early morning, being approximately 4:37AM- Alex was experiencing the consequences of going to sleep without properly treating his injuries. He wouldn't be surprised if some of the deeper gashes were infected, he had a headache (which the Paracetamol wasn't helping), and now a nosebleed.

Shuffling into the bathroom quietly, so as not to awake his team mates, Alex pulled a wad of tissue and held it to his nose, ignoring the painful twinges in his body whenever he moved. Eventually he gave up looking for something useful to do and flopped back onto his bunk, tissues still pressed to his nose and staring at the ceiling.

His eyes drifted close then jerked wide open as another wave of pain went through his body. Swearing angrily, Alex pulled himself out of bed and strode over to Rat's bunk. Reluctantly, he shook Rat's shoulder, sending the young man into wakefulness. It was just his luck that the most annoying member (because how could he, Alex, be the most annoying!? The very thought!) of the unit happened to be the medic, which he needed right now.

Rat woke in a start. "Whaddya need?" he said once he had fully regained consciousness and taken in Alex's less then perfect state- after, of course, a quick rant a the ungodly hour of the morning.

Sighing, Alex told him.

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Ben Daniels struggled into his old army wear, figuring that if he was gonna stay at the SAS camp for who knows how long- MI6 had informed him he would also be able to touch up his training as well as interrogating this Thomas Smith guy _and _seeing K Unit- then he should probably blend in. He'd muscled out a bit since his SAS days, so they no longer fit him as well as they used to, but he deemed the end result sufficient.

He was still in shock over the whole 'Alex Rider's alive and mental' thing. He'd come to like the boy over their mission together. Once he had read Alex's file he'd felt sorry for him as well, and if he admitted it to himself angry at MI6 for using the boy so blatantly like that. He'd refuse the mission if it wasn't for the fact that he wanted to find Alex and was worried about him, and the fact that the boy was proven clinically insane so could be a danger to himself and others. If he managed to find Alex he could get the boy the help he needed... and figure out the rest later.

MI6 had refused to divulge how Thomas Smith was connected to the whole thing. They'd just said to mention Alex Rider and see what happened. Ben guessed he was a relative of some sort, or an acquaintance, or maybe a close friend- despite the two male's age difference.

Ben wiped any thoughts of his case from his mind and went out of his motel to catch a ride to the SAS camp. He couldn't wait to see K-unit again. Though he was extremely worried about them. Being an agent, he'd had enough clearance to see their files, and couldn't help feeling sick when he saw what they'd been through in their time in captivity and doubted that they were the same.

Reverting his mind state to that of 'Fox', the man prepared to reunite with his closest friends and start his new mission.

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After Rat had sorted him out, both males had been immensely tired and decided to go straight back to bed. Luckily, the dreamless pill Alex had taken the night before was still working and he had a few hours of restful sleep until Lion woke him up for the day.

A sudden melancholy feeling had overtaken Alex since he had woken up again. Securely bandaged and only aching inside, he announced he was going for a walk. Then he strolled into the woods, avoiding the booby traps that littered it, and tried to feel normal again.

That was the problem though, he mused. The normal he wanted was... fake. It was the normal of an SAS man with no worries and a patriotic heart, not a boy who hated MI6, was mad, and was so fucking unable to tell the truth.

It scared him. How easily he could just... change. Switch off one self, put on another. As easily as changing clothes. Discarding a whole life for another, and spitting out those fucking lies the whole damn time. The whole damn time.

"My name's Alex Rider." he said. "I'm fifteen years old. MI6 blackmailed me into working with them, then I escaped from the mental facility they imprisoned me in. I'm thinking of committing suicide 'cause life's too fucked up to continue."

Alex didn't know where the last bit came from. But he realised, with a horrible feeling, that it was the truth.

"Everything I say is a lie. I'm living a lie. I'm nothing. If I ever tell the truth, everyone will hate me. But they won't hate me, because they don't know me. No one knows me. I don't even know myself."

He wanted someone to come out behind him, tell him they'd listened to him, followed him. He didn't want to lie any more. He was pouring out his life's secrets and if he was truthful to himself, he wanted someone to call him out on it.

Alex stopped and clenched his fists hard. "I'm nothing. Nothing. Nothing. No one cares about me, they just care about Eel, and I don't know who Eel is."

That was what hurt the most. He wasn't some skilled prankster. He didn't crack jokes, wasn't loyal to his country. His name wasn't Thomas Smith, and he had killed, and he was not a man.

But no one knew that.

No one fucking knew that.

Oh god, he thought. They're right. I'm insane. I'm so fucking insane.

And I want to die.

But...

He hurt so bad. Everything was mixed up in his head, all those deaths and lies and hurts and it was trapping him, crowding him into this corner and he couldn't move. He was stuck. No where to go, no way out, and he just wanted it to end. All he was was a shell, hiding behind a façade.

Yeah, a façade. That was what he was. A façade, Thomas Smith. Behind that was an Alex Rider façade. Behind that was nothing. Because he was nothing. Nothing at all.

What a horrible word, nothing. When you died, did you become nothing? Where did your soul go? The thing that made you, you? He used to worry about that. Worry about what would happen if he just... disappeared. When he died. He couldn't live thinking that in the end it was all for nothing, he was just going to... go. But he was going now, anyway. He was gone. He was nothing already and he didn't have to worry about anything or care for anyone because no one worried for him and no one cared for a piece of nothing.

He didn't want to be nothing. He wanted to be Alex, at least. He _was _Alex. Not nothing. _Alex._

"My name is Alex Rider." he repeated, slowly. But the words felt sour in his mouth, fake. He slipped back into his British accent, removing the Irish twang that had become so familiar. "I'm 15 years old. My life is a lie."

His life... was a lie.

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Wolf looked around at his unit. They were all scarred and hurting, but seemed more.. complete then they did a few weeks ago. He felt a smile spread on his face as he observed Eagle's over the top gestures as he talked to Fox about his latest failure with women. Monkey was laughing at Snake, who was regarding his spilled food with a comically morose expression... laughing. It had been so long since any of them had did that.

His face turned blank as he spotted D unit ambling towards them- once again, without their fourth member. He was sure Eel was Cub, but now he thought about it they were decidedly different... and the age's didn't match up. There was definitely something suspicious about the guy, though, and Wolf was determined to figure it out.

"Hey." greeted Lion as the three men sat down with their food.

"Where's Eel?" Wolf asked. Glances were exchanged.

"He's gone for a walk." he was finally told.

Raising his eyebrows skeptically, Wolf chose not to respond and went back to his food.

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The woman stood up hurriedly and pointed a gun at the intruder, one slender, painted finger resting on the trigger. "Don't move." she warned, her voice an elusive mix of an Arabian accent and notes of lilting Italian. "If you value your life, do not move."

The straggly haired man took a step closer, his hands dangling either side on outstretched arms. "That is the problem." he said in Russian, knowing the woman would understand. "I don't value my life." Then he lunged at the female head of Scorpia who had ruined his life.

She hurriedly pulled the trigger and unleashed a spray of bullets that blew the man back, slamming him into the wall with his eyes wide open and splattering the expensive upholstery with blood. The corpse slammed against the wall and sank down, holes peppering it's body with large, bloody craters. Though she had seen plenty of dead bodies in her time, many of them in far more grotesque states than this, she still had to swallow bile as she turned away.

She took a deep breath, then calmly replaced the gun in her pocket. Slipping on a pair of red stilettos, she walked out to sack the guards currently attending her. She wasn't surprised when she found them all dead.

Pulling out her state of art phone, she delicately tapped in a number. "Hello?" she said when it was picked up. "I would like to speak to Darren Black, if you please. Tell him it's Jenna Renarla."

Waiting patiently for a moment, she smiled when she heard the familiar smooth voice of her fellow terrorist. "Darren? How lovely to hear from you again. I must, regrettably, ruin this lovely morning with a.. yes, yes, I'm fine. No, they're all dead...Thank you. I'd appreciate it...Alex Rider?...Mm hmm...That sounds delightful. You plan on revealing it to F unit, did you say?...Ah, of course. I'm not surprised, really. The SAS have a mole!... Bear? So... You are a very clever man, Darren... Thank you... Good bye!"

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Alex sank down onto the forest floor and put his head on his hands.

What was he meant to do?

He was a kid, for god's sake. He should be in school. He wasn't meant to be in a fucking SAS camp, and about to go to _Iraq... _

And on top of that, he was having serious identity issues.

And he was thinking of commiting suicide.

No, he decided. He didn't want to die.

He felt lighter, after that. But still he was... what was that word he was thinking of? Façade. He was a shell behind a façade.

I want to tell them the truth, he thought. I want to tell someone the whole truth, and let them tell me what to do.

But who could he tell?

No one. Because he was nothing.

No, this was not the right track to be going down. He _ was _something. He had saved the world. The whole fucking world, numerous times. His country owed him. And even if they cared for what he thought was a lie, people still cared for him. Eel.. was part of Alex. They were each-other. They were _him. _And it might be just a façade, but...

To his surprise, when he sat up, his hands were wet. He thought it was blood but realised that he was crying.

I'm allowed to cry, aren't I? Alex asked himself. Kids are allowed to cry, and I'm a kid.

My name is Alex Rider. I'm fifteen years old.

My name is Thomas Smith. I'm twenty three years old.

I'm... Thomas Rider.

Or Alex Smith.

He sniggered to himself but a black feeling overwhelmed him again and he couldn't help it when tears started to leak from his eyes.

"Eel?" said a voice behind him. He heard footsteps and a hand settled on his shoulder. Someone sat beside him.

Alex didn't have enough... whatever to feel embarrassed. But he brushed the tears away and sat up. To his surprise, the man beside him was Wolf. "Wolf?" he asked, wincing internally when his voice cracked.

"Are you Cub?" Wolf responded.

"...no." sighed Alex eventually. He wanted to tell someone, but he didn't want his secrets revealed to someone he barely knew- and who had been a bastard to him last time they met. That was besides the fact that the arrival of another human had momentarily straightened his mind and he realized the thing he had realized again and again, before; that he couldn't tell anyone or MI6, inevitably, would find out.

"Really." The word was skeptical, but curious. Alex thought hurriedly to make up an excuse, biting his lip nervously.

"Yes, but..."

"But?" Wolf questioned impatiently after Alex's long hesitation. Alex grinned slightly as a (mainly) plausible explanation came to mind.

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Yes."

"I know Cub. I... I was involved in some of his more recent, dangerous actions."

He left it at that, waiting to see what conclusions Wolf would jump to. His statement left a lot of room for fabrications.

"He died?"

Raising his eyebrows ever so slightly at the assumption Wolf had made. Well, the power of suggestion and all that.

"I don't know." Alex said honestly. Cub might've died. Maybe he was pure Thomas Smith, now.

"I'm sorry." Wolf said eventually. Alex had no idea what the man was apologizing for, but put a morose expression on his face as was adequate anyway.

"I'd prefer you didn't mention this." Alex told the older man. "My... relative is in trouble with MI6. It wasn't his fault, but if he is alive and MI6 found out before he gathers some proof he's gonna be in some serious trouble."

Alex waited while this registered with his companion. Talking to Wolf had really helped, he mused- he was no longer in such a depressed state of mind, instead focusing on saving his future. He clinically took apart his spur of the moment words, and found them appropriate as a solution, if taken correctly; the word relative ensured any resemblance to the fifth member of K Unit and himself was allowed, while giving a reason for Wolf to keep his mouth shut had also provided an incentive for his former actions of running away and hiding in the bathroom; and securing it so the word would not spread and Alex get entangled in evermore lies. Saying it wasn't Cub's fault had told Wolf that he was protecting an innocent man.

"That brat's got himself into a pile of shit." Wolf eventually muttered, startling Alex out of his thoughts. Confused as to what Wolf meant, Alex settled for a "What?"

"He's just a kid." Wolf explained- rather futilely, Alex thought, since wouldn't he, a 'relative', know that already? "A rude, rich kid, but he shouldn't be involved in anything that's getting him into trouble with MI6."

"He's not rich." Alex said indignantly feeling a need to protect his relative. Actually, himself. Ugh, it was getting mixed up even in his head now. "And it wasn't his fault."

Wolf shrugged. "Okay, whatever."

They sat in silence for a while before moving onto lighter topics of conversation.

**Phew. Done.**

**This morning I was like oh yeah fanfiction, should update seeing as it's inset day (at school), but then I was all like but nah I promised myself I'd update at 50 and surely they haven't got to 50 reviews yet so I went on the laptop, watched a bit of Misfits, looked at my phone to see an email... with 55 reviews for Façades...**

**Sorry if this comes out a little late. But guess what? It's snowing! Yep, finally. Only reason I'm not out there enjoying my day off school is because my coat's soaked from the snowball fight. Unfortunately, I've also got the unwelcome news that our landlord is kicking us out. Fucking idiot. We have to find a new house and my mum's upset coz she really liked this one- and the longest we've ever stayed in a house is 2 years, she wanted to beat that. 'Course, we're moving so much I doubt that will ever happen. We've moved country 5 times already... in 12 years...**

**Thanks for those reviews. You have no idea how much I smiled, thanks to those people who reviewed a number of times XD.**

**REVISED AND EDITED AS OF 15TH MARCH, 2013.**

**Oh dear. Looking back at the beginning of this chapter, it's a bit... confusing. If you review, I'll answer any questions you may have.**

**Freezing outside. I'm taking another walk when I've updated this. :)**


	5. 5th Chunk

_Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreaming  
Of angels on the moon  
Where everyone you know-  
Never leaves too soon.  
**Angels on the Moon, by Thriving Ivory**  
_

The two units, D unit and K unit, and the visiting Fox, seemed to be getting along as the day progressed. Despite being without two of their members (who had both disappeared on a 'walk') they'd found lots of similarities between them; particularly Rat and Eagle, who had similar personalities and looks. Though K unit were far more mature and advanced then D unit, both were SAS soldiers to the bone and with this huge thing in common, they found plenty to talk about as they walked to the weapon safety lectures.

Of course, no one _ever _listened to weapon safety lecture, so the seven men (Fox was joining his old unit for the time he stayed at the camp and so go around to training with them) continued to talk through the lecture.

When lunch time finally came and they sat down, wondering where the missing team mates were, it came as a surprise when Wolf and Eel came in, talking quite happily, like... like them, in fact.

Both men came to sit with the unit. "Hey." Eel greeted his unit, nodding to K unit, not noticing Fox.

Wolf came back with two army tins full of 'food', one of which he handed Eel. Eel sighed loudly and sat down, handling the object like it was a highly dangerous bomb- which according to Eel, it was.

Fox stood up. "Thomas Smith?" he asked, voice cold and professional. Seeing Eel like that had reminded him so much of Alex... he wanted to help the boy. And if this Thomas knew about Alex, and he was being hurt, then god help him.

"Yes..." Eel replied uncertainly. K unit looked at Fox, surprised.

"MI6." Fox flashed his badge. "Please come with me."

And he walked away.

"Fox is here?!" He heard Eel ask behind him. To his surprise, Wolf answered.

"Yep. No idea why he's talking to you like that, though..."

"Fox has come _here?!" _Eel's voice had become slightly high pitched and frantic sounding.

"Uh... yes?"

"And you didn't tell me? Oh god, I didn't notice him when I came in... He... Wolf, he_'s MI6."_

"Oh, fuck." Wolf said. "He can't know about Cu- I mean, your problem, right?"

"What's wrong?" asked Rat. Wolf and Eel ignored him. Fox walked back to them, a sudden feeling of foreboding overcoming the spy.

"Alex Rider." he said, just to see what would happen.

Eel shot up and ran.

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He knew it wasn't a good idea to run. It made him look guilty, aroused suspicion in those who hadn't even thought of the concept before. But it was his natural instinct- to get away from this man who threatened to spill his carefully kept secret into the open. After his tense encounter with Wolf, despite gaining him an ally he was on high alert. And right now he was really tired and couldn't be bothered to think up an excuse for both unit's- added to the fact that, well, this was _MI6 _and might be a little harder to convince. He needed preparation to think up an excuse.

And, okay, it wasn't a good idea to hide behind the table in his barracks, playing Angry Bird on Rat's (illegally smuggled into the camp) phone to calm his nerves- which was probably why a Ben Daniels found him so easily.

He wriggled faintly in the complicated arm lock he was held in. Though Alex knew a hundred and one ways to get out of it, Fox was MI6 and would probably arrest him if he resisted, and, well, he'd rather lie a bit more and force his sleep deprived brain to think up something believable then spend the rest of his life as a fugitive- both Thomas Smith and Alex Rider.

"What do you know about Alex Rider?"

And- there. The question was out in the open.

"Very quick to the point, aren't you?" Alex said cheerfully in an attempt to stall, and wondering where the rest of his team mates were. "No beating around the bush. Just a straight forwards question."

"Tell. Me. What do you know about Alex Rider?"

"I could literally see the full stops after 'tell' and 'me', you know. And I thought that was an ability only females could do. Ow!" The last was an exclamation at Ben twisting his arm a little harder. Luckily, by now he had thought up a slightly reasonable excuse. Okay, it was a ludicrous story. He doubted it was believable. But anything was better then the truth.

Then Alex had a brain wave. Literally face palming at the stupidity of himself- just what the fuck was wrong with him today?- he realized that he could use the excuse he had used on Wolf, just with the editing on the whole 'MI6 is after him' part because that _really _wouldn't go down well.

"Ok. I'm related to him. We were in a dangerous situation recently, and I don't know if he's alive..."

Fox's brow furrowed as he thought over it.

Then he stepped back and let a gasp of comprehension. "So you're related to Alex Rider? That's why you look so familiar!"

Alex could sense a hidden meaning beneath those words, but couldn't figure out exactly what the former SAS man, now MI6 employee meant. "Uh... yes, very distant cousins." he improvised on the spot. "Do you know where he is now? Is he alive? Is he in trouble?"

"I was hoping you knew." Again, there was that double sense to the words. Was a message being conveyed to him? What was it? "And yes, he's in trouble. Big trouble. But I used to know the kid, and I like him, so I suggest that if you meet him you tell him to keep his head down for a while."

Fox smirked as he saw Eel had finally figured out what he was saying. "Uh... yah, sure... th-thanks. Bye!" He squeaked finally, after an agonizing few minutes of wide eyed stuttering, and ran off. Again.

Fox sighed and reached into his pocket for his pocket. He thought he had done the right thing, but there was still that doubt weighing on his heart.

Because Fox was, after all, a spy. He wasn't easy to convince, and though Alex was the top spy in MI6 for ages, he was also a teenager... and a _little _deranged. Fox had, after some thinking, seen past the disguise Eel had put up. It was Alex. Eel was Alex.

Well, at least the boy was safe. Even if he had illegally joined the SAS.

Pausing for a moment, he stared at the blank screen, the dim light showing the smudges of finger prints on the smeared plastic. Then he turned it on and phoned Mrs Jones. "Hello?... no, the mission was unsuccessful." He wiped a little sweat off his brow. "...Thomas Smith knows nothing. I'll be coming back now. Goodbye."

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Rat pursed his lips as he stared at the place his phone used to be hidden. He ran through the options in his mind; if the sergeant had conducted a surprise search and found it, he would know about it by now... his unit members would be decent enough to leave it alone... apart from...

"EEL!"

"Yeah?" said a voice innocently as Eel trooped into the barracks, splattered with mud from his recent attempt at the assault course.

"Where the fuck is my phone?"

"Rat!" Eel mock gasped, putting a hand over his heart theatrically. "You bought a phone into the SAS camp? How could you?"

"Tell me where it is," Rat growled. "Or I'll..."

"Rat on me? About what?" Eel giggled at his horrifyingly bad pun.

"Did you just... giggle?"

"What? No! No... of course not. Here ya go." Eel said hurriedly, ending his gabble by tossing over a slim case which Rat caught easily, gasping in relief to see his phone, which he quickly put back in it's hiding place.

"So what was that stuff with Fox?" Rat asked nonchalantly.

"Ah... just some freaky paranoid MI6 rubbish... he's gone home now, I think. You were with K unit all day, weren't you? What're they like?"

"They're nice. 'Specially Eagle, he has an awesome sense of humour. You know that massive crater near the assault course? That was him. He nearly got binned for it." Rat sniggered. "But apparently their last task was... really messed up. They need therapy almost as much as you. They didn't say any thing specific, but you've seen their scars..." he shuddered.

"I do not need therapy!" Eel protested.

"Yah, you do, Eel. Don't bother denying it. You get those flashbacks, nightmares..."

"I haven't had a flashback in ages."

"Don't jinx it." Rat warned.

"You started it!"

"This conversation is getting ridiculous... while we were training, you were off with Wolf. What was up with that?"

"Ah..." Eel gestured vaguely with his hands. "Ya know... this and that... just talked..."

"Whatever." Rat brushed him off. "Just don't disappear like that again. You won't believe what we had to think about to cover for you. And Lion is a terrible liar."

Both winced as they were reminded of their friend's disastrous attempts at an art both males were skilled in.

"Sure, I was just... a bit upset, today. So you using that phone to talk to Marlene?" Eel asked, swiftly changing the subject and referring to Rat's 'almost girlfriend'.

"No. She won't speak to me after I got her Haribos for her birthday." Rat said miserably.

"...you have a real unique way of charming women, you know?"

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Bear sneaked round the back of the barracks his unit stayed it and crept into the woods. Creeping along a little trail that sprawled far away from civilization but still managed to keep a signal on his SCORPIA issued phone, he watched as the sky darkened overheard. Sweat beads welled on his forehead. This was the most dangerous times, because if anyone overheard...

Finally he came to a little clearing and clumsily climbed a tree to ensure maximum security, swearing foully as the bark scratched his bare hands. When he was high up enough to see his surroundings reasonably clearly, he carefully pulled out his phone and stared at the illuminated display, waiting until the animated clock turned to 6:00.

The second it did his phone began to buzz, signalling an incoming call. Hastily he swiped his meaty finger across the green bar in the middle of the screen. "Jenna?" he asked.

"No names." the voice sang at him. Jenna always sang. Her mixed accent just added to the little miss perfect façade she kept up- which anyone who knew of her reputation knew was a disastrously assumption to make. One example was that after her lover had been killed by some Rider kid, she'd gone on a massive killing spree in Africa, angrily shooting anyone who looked sideways at her before screaming at a bunch of frightened homeless children that she would get revenge before killing them, too. Even Bear, a seasoned SCORPIA agent, had shivered as he heard about the cold blooded killing. Of course, since it was Africa it was reported distantly in the news but no one cared that much.

He shook himself out of his thoughts. "Of course. I'm sorry."

"We must make this quick. Some recent information has come into our possession... about Thomas Smith, who I believe you know."

"Thomas Smith? Never heard of him."

"You may know him as... Eel."

"Eel." the man's voice was suddenly full of disgust. "What's that bastard got to do with it?"

"I need to go in a minute. All you need to know is that-"

Her voice fell to a whisper. Bear's eyes widened further and further as he listened, and at the end his mouth dropped open. It would be comical if it wasn't for the maddened, violence lust driven look in his eyes.

When Eleanor hung up, he couldn't help a quick laugh of joy. Then he climbed out of the tree and walked back, a jaunt in his step and six words on his tongue; _you, Thomas Smith, are Alex Rider._

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For a few weeks as two units had just been partnered, they were allowed a free period of time every day to 'bond'. K unit and D unit were now enjoying that brief period, eight men seated around a table, serious expressions on each of their faces. A stack of cards was placed in the middle of the table, and each person had a small pile of spare cash in front of them.

They were about to partake in the dangerous game of poker.

"I'm dealing." announced Monkey, grabbing the stack of cards before anyone could protest. He swiftly dealt them out. And it began.

The next few hours were of an intense atmosphere, loud swearing, smug smiles and dangerous threats. All the time every single person attempted to cheat- and most succeeded. Money was passed around swiftly, the more experienced Monkey, Leopard, Wolf and Rat having steadily bigger piles of money in front of them. Eventually Eel threw his cards down angrily. "I quit." he scowled. Each of the seven man glanced blankly at him, and went back to playing.

"You're like zombies." Eel sighed at them. When no one responded and continued playing, he threw his hands up and walked out.

The last two of his walks- getting beaten up by F unit and being confronted by Wolf- had ended rather... differently to usual. After it all happened, Alex told himself that he should've expected it.

Mindful of the dangers in the midnight woods, he instead settled for wandering around the steadily darkening grounds of the training camp. He ended up at the assault course. Staring guiltily at the depressingly high monkey bars, he realized he really needed to practice again and with a long suffering sigh began a run on the course, a picture of the money he had lost running through his mind. He was _good _at poker, for god's sake. He had beaten plenty of people plenty of times. But the SAS were renowned among the British military services in the regard that... they, um, excelled at poker.

Just before he put a foot on the ladder that started up to the thin plank you had to climb over, Alex became aware of a presence. Turning quickly, he saw something in the shadows of the nearby lecture halls. "Hello?" he asked warily.

Out of them, like in some amateur thriller movie, stepped Bear. A smirk was on his face, and his face was a granite brick so unaccustomed to smiling that it made the grotesque smile almost painful to look at. "Alex Rider." he said in a slow, gravelly voice. His smirk spread on his face as he waited for Alex's reaction.

Alex froze for a second. Then; "What is it with people coming up to me and saying Alex Rider? First Fox, then you- proof that the world's fucked up today."

Bear was confused, at first, at Eel's uncaring attitude. "You, Thomas Smith, are Alex Rider." he said. "You're 15 years old. I know everything about you, Alex, and here's what's gonna happen. I hate you. It's a well known fact. So I'm gonna make your life hell. And you are going to let me, or I'll let slip to your unit members that you've been lying to them for over a year. Don't think they'd like that, eh?"

"They already know." Alex said, after a pause as he took in the startling revelation. "You can't blackmail me with that, coz they know."

"Right." Bear sneered. "It won't do any harm to reinforce the concept though, right? And I'm sure sergeant will want to know- and social services. This time next week you'll be staring at the wall of some orphanage with everyone you know now hating you..." He turned and started walking away.

"Wait!" shouted Alex. His mind was racing furiously through the facts. Maybe it was best if his unit found out, but... not right now. And social services could NEVER know. And if the sergeant found out... he'd go back to MI6. Back to the mental institute. Alex involuntarily shivered. That was worse then any children's home. "Okay, don't tell. What do I have to do?"

He hated giving in, it made him feel so weak... so helpless. But it was the only thing Alex could do. And when he came out of this, he couldn't tell anyone or Bear would open his big mouth...

"Close your eyes. Don't move." Bear commanded, confident victory clear in his tone. But this went against everything Alex had ever been trained for, ever been taught.

"No." he growled furiously. Fine. If Bear was going to spill his secrets he'd just have to make sure the man didn't have a chance to... by taking away his ability to speak...

Alex spun and launched himself at the big man, who was unprepared for the attack and fell backwards. Alex jabbed down angrily onto a pressure point, but hissed in pain as his fingers came into contact with body armour under the man's clothes. Bear used the distraction to grunt and roll over so Alex was squashed underneath him, leg pulled to snapping position in an excruciating lock. Alex paused for a second, sweat running down his brow and breath coming out in silver clouds in the crisp night air, then rolled with the lock, holding in a scream as his leg bent even further. He was pretty sure he heard it crack but Bear let go and he was standing again. From the fact that he was not screaming in pain and falling in a faint from pure agony, Alex deduced his leg _probably _wasn't broken or even fractured (he'd now about it by now) before launching himself once more at Bear.

All he had to do was hold him still enough to... rip out his tongue... or less drastically, issue a few threats... or something...

Alex threw an uppercut at Bear's chin, but the man stepped back with alarming speed. However, Alex bought his left arm round in a brutal punch that snapped the man's head to the side. He continued with a succession of blows, some which fell and some which Bear miraculously managed to avoid by dancing himself out of the man's heavy blows.

But the man was, as many bouts had shown, an equal to if not better than the teen at fighting. Though Alex had a lifetime of karate behind him _ and _some special terrorist training, Bear was born with a knack for the art, heralding a unique style of his own and was amazing to watch and fight. This was not something to admire when Alex was fighting him, and it was all the ex-spy could do to hold himself out as the odds rapidly moved in Bear's favor.

Then Alex got a lucky break as Bear stumbled forwards- what a shitty amateur mistake, it almost made Alex laugh, and he did, a quick, breathless chuckle that had a sneer of outrage twisting Bear's face when he heard- leaving an opening for Alex to charge Bear in his unprotected side, making him wobble to the side. Before he could recover Alex swept his feet from under him in a quick kick of his right leg. The man fell to the ground heavily.

Alex quickly secured Bear in an impossible-to-break-out-of (according to his old karate instructor)arm lock and sat for a moment, catching his breath and trying to decide his next move, alert to any movement Bear could make.

Bear looked at him with hatred in his eyes. But also... was that triumph? Alex prided himself on being able to read other's emotions, but in this occasion he _must _be wrong because it was Bear on the ground, Bear in the lock and Bear _not _experiencing triumph.

But there was a sudden sense of heightened self awareness in Alex. And his instincts were tingling nervously. _Always trust your instincts._

"I wanted to take you in..." croaked Bear. Alex turned his attention back to the man, but made no move to stop him speaking, interested to hear what Bear was talking about. "Helpless, not fighting back... knowing you were under my power..." A smile spread on Bear's face. "And if not, I wanted to beat you in a fair fight. That didn't happen but I'm not particularly horrified at that, _boy..." _Then a piercing whistle echoed from the man's mouth.

"What did you do?" Alex managed to gasp before someone was running up behind him, pulling him off Bear. Alex instantly fought back, his movements weakened by the recent fight but agile and skilled nonetheless, lashing out at his attacker with rapid blows. There were grunts of pain and he had a moment to feel anger at his stupidity and disgust at Bear's blatant _cheating- _ok, there never were any rules but that was just disgusting. Using other people? Really?

And then he was back fighting, swift punches to the groin, throat, stomach; killing blows, because he had, unaware, slipped into assassin mode. Which meant no mercy. Which meant quick, clean kills. And by the time he realized he didn't want to be an assassin he didn't particularly care and focused on punching and kicking and spitting insults quickly and-

Then another man was coming up behind him, restraining him. He stamped on the foot like a child but he was a child and it worked, then elbowed the one behind him out of the way before unleashing a rapid spray of blows on the one in front of him, dispatching the man as he fell to the ground- hey, that rhymed!- damn, the exhaustion was getting to him... fuck fuck fuck it ALL there were two more men and he was falling and falling...

Bear walked behind him and suddenly a thick bag was pulled over Alex's head and pulled tight. He started choking, lashing out with his arms and trying desperately to get that...thing off his... head...it was just like his dream he wasn't breathing oh god he wasn't _breathing_-

_I can't panic_. He thought to himself firmly. There was still air in the bag. In fact, it was a rough cotton weave, he could feel it against his neck. He..could..breath...

His arms were twisted up behind him. Disorientated by his blindness, Alex couldn't do anything as a man he assumed was Bear dragged him away. As he was pulled, he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself urgently not to cry. He'd failed. They were going to kill him.

He _wouldn't cry. _

Alex's sense of direction was pretty good. After a year of wandering around the camp grounds he knew it pretty well so from the general path the men was pulling him along he thought they were heading towards the disused toilets on the very outskirts of the camp (they were utilized before bathrooms were installed in the barracks and since then had gradually drifted out of use).

He let himself be dragged along, hearing the quiet murmurs of the men around him. He figured they were the rest of F Unit- no lone else hated him enough to help Bear beat him up. Hopefully they didn't know about his secrets yet.

He paused, then leaped again. Punching the air around him, he stumbled forwards until he hit flesh, and quickly pummeled a man, ignoring the attempts to punch back. His assault lasted barely a second before he was punched on the back of the head. Sinking forwards from the force of the blow, he let the fight go out of him.

It really was over.

Someone punched him round the head again, sending stars blitzing across the darkness his eyes were seeing. Someone dragged him up.

A door was opened with a sharp creak and Alex was pushed in. He heard men stepping in behind him, then was shoved roughly into a chair. His self awareness heightened considerably and the men were pacing around him, like something out of a torture scene in a war movie. Alex realised one of them was winding a rope around him as they walked and suddenly pulling a tight, drawing a gasp from Alex. Then the bag was pulled off his head and he realised that he was right and they were, indeed, in the toilets- he was tied to a wooden chair in front of a row of urinals. "Tasteful." he grinned at Bear, who was now standing in front of him. Even after the ordeal, words popped out of his mouth because that was what Thomas Smith did.

The man was not amused.

"Let's do it quick, shall we?" he said. The other men- again, Alex was right, they were the rest of F Unit- grinned, staunching their various wounds while spaced in front of him.

Leopard pulled out a ball gag from his pocket. Eel's eyes grew wide and we flinched away from it but Bear roughly grabbed his head and tied it on, securing it with a knot at the back- and that went his chances of screaming for help, though it was likely that no one would hear. Eel glared filthily and Bear, who smirked.

Abruptly, Bear slammed a fist into Eel's stomach. Unable to move or make a sound, all Alex could do was breath more heavily through his nose and try to ignore the pain.

Bear felt a wave of power roll through him. Here was his nemesis, helpless, at his mercy, and being a SCORPIA operative he kinda had no mercy. Well, that just made this little operation all the funner.

He slammed his fist again and again into Alex's stomach. A sadistic pleasure welled up in him when he saw a tear well up in the boy's eye. "Crybaby." he taunted, and stamped on Eel's foot, hard. Then he put his meaty hands around the kid's neck and squeezed.

Alex's face started to go bright red, his breathing heightening to quick sucks through his nostrils. Bear waited until he thought the boy couldn't stand it any more and let go. His head slumped back, tears running freely onto his face. Bear remembered again that he was a child and felt a twinge of guilt but brushed it quickly away; he had done worse, working for SCORPIA. After all, Alex had killed many, as well; this was all he deserved.

The rest of Bear's unit wanted revenge but he stalled them with a whispered promise of _next time. _A whisper Alex didn't have the strength to shiver at; but another wave of fear clenched his stomach.

Bear punched Alex's shoulder for good measure then untied him. Alex was too winded and pained to get up, but Bear hauled him up roughly and shoved him towards the door. In his exhausted, beaten state Alex could only manage a few staggering steps before sinking down with a low moan. "I'd thought you could withstand more then that." Bear sneered. He strode over and untied the gag. "You come here, tomorrow, same time, or I might let something slip. And if you tell anyone... well, we know what will happen, don't we?"

"You're... gonna do it again?" Alex said hoarsely.

"Of course!" said Bear, delighted at how quick it was to break the child's spirit.

"Fuck you." scowled Alex, and Bear revised his thought. "You're a perverted ass-hole. I bet you were jerking off to that, you pedo. You're never gonna get away with this."

Enraged at the comments, Bear punched Alex in the nose, sending the barely healed appendage into a fresh spurt of blood. "Shut up." he growled.

"Go...to... hell."

"You can call me all the names you like." smiled Bear, realizing that he had complete control over the situation. "But it's not gonna change the fact that you've lost. I win. Come back tomorrow, or else."

And he, the rest of his unit following, strode away from the boy, who fell to his hands and knees and started retching the moment they disappeared from sight.

**So I got tired of all those fics where when Fox finds Alex, he instantly betrays him to MI6. I mean, he might be a very patriotic man but it's not like he's completely obsessed with his job! Or a cold hearted bastard who would betray a child like that... so I changed it. Please tell me your thoughts. **

**I was planning that Bear thing for ages. What'dya think?**

**THANK YOU TO THE GUEST WHO TOLD ME ABOUT THAT SENTENCE.**

**And- this is my longest chapter at around 5k words! I feel very pleased with myself.**

**I need to learn a bunch of French questions and answers. For tomorrow. I should be practicing now, since I know none of them, but...writing this is funner, lucky for you. I will most likely fail my French test but practicing English, my national language, is a better alternative right?**

**Oh, and... I forgot what I was going to say. Type. Whatever. Until next time.**


	6. 6th Part

_Pain...  
Guess it's a matter  
Of sensation  
**Revenge, by Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse**  
_

Alex hauled himself up slowly and started breathing harshly through his teeth as he struggled towards his doorway. All F unit had given him (in the beating in the woods, not the crude torture that had just taken place while those _bastards _stood by and watched) was some light bruises and a busted nose, but Bear... Bear was a vicious, god damned monster with a horrible punch. He was aching all over and bolts of pain kept ricochetting through his body, sending a burn off acid up his throat when it got particularly intense. Luckily, he managed not to puke as he made his way in the darkness of the camp towards his barracks.

As he walked, his pain dazed mind tried to think up an excuse to tell everyone, who would obviously be wanting an explanation after seeing his bloody, battered state. He'd reached the conclusion, eventually, that he couldn't tell the truth or the truth about him would be told- and that had formidable consequences he wasn't prepared to accept yet. Though that was the only conclusion he had reached in this fog of blurring agony. The pain kept turning his thoughts into meandering trails of nonsense so eventually he gave up and focused on reaching the comfort of his bunk.

Each of his wounds twinged as he moved. A wave of anger rolled through him at the thought of the guy who had made them- he felt a pang of self disgust as he recalled the utter helplessness that was the resistance against Bear. Clenching his fists angrily at the mixed emotions, Alex walked on, finally coming into the section of the camp where the barracks were. Relief giving him strength he stumbled the last steps into the doorway of D-Unit's section and slumped against it, exhausted. Reaching a hand up, he gently thudded on the door next to him.

There was an increase of noise inside, Alex heard blearily, and then someone swung open the door. "Eel?" he heard, but couldn't find the strength to look up and see the owner of the incredulous voice.

"Hey," he slurred, head still drooped. "C'n I come in?"

Strong hands lifted him up, handling him softly like he was a porcelain doll. Muttering something that could be heard to be a thanks, he tore away from the hands and walked in himself, greeted by the horrified faces of D-Unit and K-Unit. Wincing slightly, he swayed, and collapsed.

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"How is it coming?"

"Extremely good."

"Great. And the mission..."

"In a few months, after Bear has had his fun. Then we'll do it."

"Very well. My turn first, remember?" Her tone was playful.

"We'll flip for it."

They laughed, then hung up.

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Jaguar lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling and thinking.

He felt guilty about beating up Eel. The guy was not fit to be in SAS, admittedly, and was childish and irresponsible and all the things they didn't need- and insulting. In the heat of the moment he'd agreed to Bear's plan to take on the man, still angry at how foolish he'd made them look, especially as F Unit hadn't even done anything to Eel, it was just Bear.

Bear had been confident they'd manage to rough him up a bit. There'd been some kind of confrontation in the assault course, but Jaguar (or, after discussing, Shark and Falcon) had not heard the details, just some raised voices and then a physical showdown. They'd agreed on a signal beforehand- the whistle- and the fact that a _basic newbie _could take them all on infuriated Jaguar even more.

So he'd gone along with it.

Then in the toilet- it had made some strange emotion in his stomach curdle, seeing Eel being blatantly beaten up like that. Restrained and gagged, it was more like _torture _then a bit of 'roughing up.' And they were meant to be... a team, as such. Fighting together for the good of their country. Fighting _for _their country. That's why he'd joined up; because he wanted to make a difference, wanted to add to their force and even _thinking _it made a swell of pride well in his throat.

But this...

Eel had gabbled out a load of insults that hardly made sense (paedo?) which was why Jaguar hadn't stopped it sooner. And now it was all coming back in waves of guilt and regret and fear. Fear because if he was found out, he'd be booted. Kicked out. Subjected to the very worst of humiliation, exiting the forces not because of some heroic _injury _or _weakness _that was unavoidable but because he'd struck out on a defenceless man.

This was going to change. This would not happen again, and he would make it up to Eel. Somehow.

Decision made, Jaguar rolled over and went to sleep, conscience at rest.

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That was so embarrassing. Why did he have to faint? It was just... horrifying. Alex would be a laughing stock for days around the camp now.

Alex tried to sit up and realised that being a laughing stock was the very _least _of his worries. Pain span round his head and he sunk back down, glaring from hooded eyes at the seven unnerving faces that stared back at him. "Hello." he greeted, at length. The silence continued. "Um..."

Rat eventually spoke up. "Probably bruised ribs, busted nose, nearly _broken _foot, bruises all over your body... nothing severe, but like to tell us where you got them from?"

"And why every single one was created less then an hour ago?" added in Snake.

_Curse you, medics._

"Uh..." Alex caught onto the one thing he noticed. "How did you know I had bruised ribs?" he asked suddenly.

"Because-"

"Did you take off my shirt?" Alex butted in hurriedly, panic clear in his flickering, now wide open eyes.

"No, because you punched us when we tried. In your sleep, might I add. We managed to examine everything else and only came to the conclusion about the ribs because it seemed you had trouble breathing." Snake explained smoothly. Alex felt his chest grow heavy and fire seemed to burn his throat instead of oxygen.

"You had to say that..." he groaned, struggling to keep from becoming light headed at the pain. "It didn't hurt before." he added at the questioning glances.

"Well, now you're awake we can treat it." Snake said, starting up and grabbing a roll of bandages.

"NO." Alex disagreed unfalteringly.

"Why?"

"He doesn't like taking his shirt off." supplied Lion, the whole D-Unit aware of Alex's 'modesty'. Alex nodded to Lion gratefully.

"Well, we can't treat you without it..." Snake trailed off. He turned to Rat. "You're part of his team and a medic, can't you just do it?"

"No." said Alex.

"Eel, you need to be treated." Wolf interjected firmly. "We don't have time for your self consciousness."

"I'll do it myself!" said Alex brightly. "You turn around and I'll do it myself, and you can tell me what to do. Simple."

"Fine." they agreed wearily, handing over the bandages and turning around, placing their hands over their eyes mockingly as Snake and Rat told Alex what to do.

He hissed in pain when the bandage touched the bruised skin, but wound it round regardless, applying the anaesthetist beneath it before pressing it down harder, and winding it round again. He told the men they could turn around again once he had pulled a shirt (over all those scars, those winding desperate scars and that hole above his heart they all hurt but not as bad as their counterparts inside his mind oh, every line, every curving line reminded him of the screams the burning the pain the _pain _and memories-)

"Eel? Are you okay?"

(-memories of how they were so loving carved or urgently slashed and the worst, the worst by far were those little nicks above his waist they were self inflicted to get away the pain of _her_ death before he realized that it was all pain, inside and out and he could never escape it so he might as well just let himself _fall apart-)_

"Yeah, I'm fine." he found himself saying. Fine. Fine, like all those... (_-and fall apart _into those little pieces that fluttered and drifted down, down into abysses of pure and utter white because darkness meant safety and warmth and comfort and sleep while this blinding white meant a never ending searchlight...)

"Okay, so now explain who beat ya up."

That was Leopard, Alex distantly took in, his voice hard and cold because he was the most compassionate of them and was probably more angry then all of them put together at whoever had hurt his unit mate.

But the pain was clouding his mind and he just felt himself drifting apart...

"Hey, wake up. Don't faint again, Eel. Ugh, he's fainted. _Again."_

"Have not." slurred Eel, sliding his eyes open again. They looked glazed but held a shred of awareness about them, Rat noted with a doctor's sense.

"Explain. The. Bruises. Now!"

"Well...uh...you see..." Eel's eyes fluttered close again.

Rat noted with amusement that since his breathing stayed steady and eyeballs moved beneath the eyelids he hadn't fainted, and was pretending to get out of an explanation. Evidently Snake had seen the same thing. "He's pretending." Snake told the five other men who were looking at Eel concernedly. Lion scowled and slapped Eel round the face lightly.

"Aw, it didn't work." moaned Eel. "Ok... see, the thing is, I, um... was on the asssualt course, and felll."

"Which is why you have bruises in the shape of fists all over your body. And obviously something hit you in the nose straight on, enough to bust it, bec-"

"Fine, whatever. I got mugged." Eel admitted.

"Someone crept into the SAS camp and managed to overpower a-"

"A dragon beat me up?"

This statement was met with incredulous stares.

"Tell. Us." Leopard said eventually, in the same full-stop voice he had been using earlier.

"Ahem. See, the thing is, I can't tell you." Eel held a hand up to stop them interrupting. "And I won't. So you can pester me all you like and you'll never find out, and quite frankly it doesn't really matter. And you _know _I won't tell you because I've kept loads of stuff a secret from D Unit. Like the-"

"Please don't." Lion interrupted before Eel could list his achievements- mainly involving pranks with Rat he had managed to keep quiet about. "Yes, it's true."

"See! And if you really want to find out, then I'm afraid you'll have to wait until I've managed to think up some excuse because _really _I'm kinda tired now and I might need some painkillers. Actually I really need some painkillers so..." he held out a hand pointedly and Rat obligingly opened a packet and put them in the proffered appendage. Eel let out a sigh as he downed them, and waited a few seconds before turning back to Rat, a slightly petulant frown on his face. "It still hurts."

Then he fainted, and this was an actual faint, so K Unit left and D Unit went to sleep.

The next day Eel was let off training and left alone in the barracks until his unit came back from training, tracing his scars with a sigh and repressing images that threatened to devour his mind.

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"He's definitely in the country?"

"Yes. We have reviewed the tapes of all airports and boat docks in the United Kingdom. Your agent is most certainly still in England."

"Thank you. Do you have any idea where he is?"

"Excuse me if this seems a little rude, but MI6 pays well and we want more money if you would like that information."

Mrs Jones paused. After the Thomas Smith lead had come up dead, the head of the British intelligence agency was using the most desperate of measures to locate her missing spy. All sorts of problems could come up if he wasn't found; and a mission had come up which only one with his skills and youth could complete. She needed him, no matter what the state of his mind was, and would do anything to get Alex Rider back. But she had paid enough... her tone became cold. "We have paid enough. Let me remind you, if your agency is bought to court we will have no problem bringing out the more criminal aspects of it. If you want to keep your organisation running, I suggest you co operate."

The man on the other side of the phone line became slightly hesitant. "But... you dealt with us..."

"You can prove that?"

He seemed to pause again. Mrs Jones could literally feel the cogs in his tiny brain working. Smirking at the success of her quickly thought up scheme, she waited until he agreed to help before reminding him that she expected information soon and hung up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alex hated lying to everyone. And it wasn't even one of his secrets- it was F Unit, stupid fucking moronic F Unit who was making him lie _even _more and putting him in a shit load of pain at the same time. Yes, it wasn't lying but it was essentially keeping the truth from them and the hurt flash in Leopard's eyes when he announced he wouldn't tell them did not go amiss. And it hurt like _hell._

He shivered as he recalled Bear's words; '_I'm going to make your life hell.' _Well, he'd certainly achieved that.

And there was no way out. Nothing he could do. Nothing he could do but lie here in the bed and stare up at the ceiling morosely and waste away in pain. And later it was gonna happen again!

The only way it would ever end is if he died. Then all the pain would go... no, Alex thought angrily. Not that suicidal crap again. If anyone deserved to die, it was Bear.

Yeah, with Bear dead, he wasn't in any position to tell any of Alex's secrets. And he couldn't beat Alex up, because he'd be... well, dead. Alex was pretty sure, even in his broken state, that he could think up some inventive way to knock off the bastard.

"No." he said aloud. "I can't kill another person."

And he couldn't. Bear's ghost would come back to haunt him and he'd go madder then ever. And it wasn't like Bear was a SCORPIA agent or anything. Nah, that was ludicrous. Absolutely insane.

Bear was just some sadistic bastard with a grudge... and a penance for beating up kids in disguise as SAS soldiers who he knew was kids... which made him evil, and evil had to be killed.

"But it's not my right to kill someone.."

And it wasn't his right to beat Alex up and blackmail him into lying.

"I lie anyway."

Lying even more.

"Killing someone isn't as bad as blackmailing them and beating them up..."

And ruining their life... either way, their life ends, so it doesn't really make a difference.

"There's a massive difference! I can survive a bit of blackmailing. Whereas he... he'll be dead."

So?

"So what?"

Er... so why will it matter if he's dead?

"Am I arguing with myself?"

Yes, yes he was.

"That's the first sign of insanity."

No shit, Sherlock. He was well past all the signs- nightmares, flashbacks, odd socks... Alex was fully certified madman.

"Alex? Who're you talking to?" asked Rat, standing in the doorway and looking at Alex with a worried expression on his face.

"Do you think I should kill Bear?"

"Um... are you okay?"

"Sure, yeah. Maybe I should-"

"Alex? Seriously, are you okay?"

Alex finally looked up and saw Rat. Surprise registered on his face. "Oh, it's you!"

"Who did you think it was?" asked Rat, befuddled.

Uncharacteristically, Eel blushed. "Uh... let's just forget I said anything, okay?!"

"Whatever you say..."

"I said to forget I said anything."

Rat, though extremely worried about his companion's debatable state of mind, couldn't help replying "So I forgot that you said to forget anything you said."

"Gah..." Eel scowled. "You're worse then me."

Rat thought back to a few seconds ago, hearing Eel speak to someone (invisible) and then come in to be confronted with Eel contemplating murder.

"Somehow," he said sombrely. "I really doubt that."

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Bear was still grinning, surfing the adrenaline of last night's success. That _beautiful _crunch as his fist hit the _bastard's _nose... he'd walked by the trainee barracks afterwards, and the fresh wave of anger that a _kid _had got into SAS had just made him happier with the knowledge that _hah! _He'd got one over the kid.

Super spy, madman, SCORPIA most wanted, Thomas Smith, SAS man, loner, orphan- _Alex Rider _had plenty of different titles. Now Bear had added another to the list; _punch bag._

He sniggered at his own joke and strolled along to his barracks, ready for tonight's entertainment. It was going to be entertaining either way; either Eel turned up and got beaten up (which was wonderful in itself) or he didn't and Bear could spread the word about Eel's little... secret, and watch the chaos explode in front of him- he should really bring popcorn. After all, he'd be getting front row seats.

Kicking open the door, Bear was momentarily surprised to see the other three members of F Unit already inside, arms crossed and glaring at him. "Hey, guys..." he said uncertainly.

"Are you going to... _rough up _Eel again?"

"Yeah..." something was wrong. Something was _very _wrong.

"I'm afraid those plans will have to be cancelled."

"What?"

Ok, it had been a spur of the moment thing to bring in his unit, and a risky move because after all they weren't SCORPIA agents and didn't have the ruthlessness needed for the task- but he didn't expect them to _face _him. Wimp out, yes, but not _disagree. _

What happened to being a unit?

"We were wrong to ever go along with it." Jaguar continued formally. "We won't grass you up but...Eel's been taught a lesson. There's no point continuing."

"You're going to stop me ?" Bear spluttered incredulously.

"If you go ahead with it, then yes. We don't know what kind of hold you've got over Eel but-"

"He's insane."

"Huh?"

"I said, he's _insane. _He's escaped from a mental hospital, for god's sake. The frigging _MI6 _are after him."

There was a moment of silence.

"That's even worse, beating up a mentally damaged person! And I'm sure he's not, I mean, he acts perfectly normal... anyway, it's not really any of our business. So we're warning you, Bear, _leave him alone."_

Bear threw his hands up in disgust. Even if he spilled _Alex Rider's _entire life story they wouldn't be on his side.

Fine, then. SCORPIA had given him some orders, to be drawn out over the course of the year; he'd simply bring them forwards a little. Time for some drastic measures.

He strode over to his bedside table and pulled out a gun.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**DUN DUN DUN!**

**Some of you seem a bit worried Alex is going to go out of this story mad. Though I said I wouldn't reveal anything, this minor detail should be okay; he will get better. I promise. And though sending him back to a mental 'academy' would be interesting, at the very least, I'm not gonna go it. Okay? Go****od.**

**I have edited the chapters before _a lot, _in case you haven't seen. Chapter 5, which used to be 3,700 words has now won top place with an average length of... 5,000 words. Thank you, thank you *bows, blows kisses*. And then an email comes in from these writers who do 10k per chapter... and I ****always thought 1k was okay...**

**Foreshadow-of-dusk bought up a very good point. Thanks, it was explained this chapter.**

**Aw, I love Rat too.**

**Um... I guess that's it. I've probably already said most of this in PM's, but it's just for those who wanted to say it but didn't review, or just thought it, or just picked up the story now and was thinking it before they saw this update...**

**The scene that starts with a row of 'XXXXX' instead of '0000000000' was inspired by J'aime lire.**

**ANYWAY... I've written a oneshot, which is kinda similar to this but UNRELATED but not really, about Alex going mad and... you'll see, if you want to look at it. I'd appreciate it if you did. It's short but I kinda like it. And depressing. Don't forget depressing. It's called Tick Tock. **


	7. 7th Hell

**Last chapter was a cliff hanger. But most of you guessed what I was going to do.**

**Huh. I didn't wanna be so predictable.**

**So I waited around (because of the above sentiment) for a new idea to come... and none came. I am now proceeding with writing this chapter. (On a totally related topic, yay for me! I get a week in beautiful, sunny Spain. Such a change from England. I feel like dying with appreciation.) Here you go-**

_Everything will be the same, no matter what I try  
Some people will live, some people will die  
Some people will build their whole lives on a lie  
**Debris, Linkin Park**  
_

**CONTINUED;**

"Bear? Why the hell do you have a gun in the barracks?"

Bear turned to the astonished speaker, the polished shot gun hanging lazily from his index finger by the trigger. He smiled, a slow, curving smirk that belonged to the evil masterminds in films. "You see, Jaguar," he said to his unit mate. _Former _unit mate. "That rule is only for those in the SAS. Unfortunately, I'm not in the SAS."

He saw their eyes fill with betrayal as they took in the full implications of his words. As one, they lunged towards him, anger clear in their shouts as they charged. But Bear had been with them as a unit (undercover) for over three years, and knew what they were going to do in the comradeship that made SAS one of the best branches of military service in the world. He side stepped them and tripped Jaguar up, who had been leading the attack. Stepping back near the door, he clicked the safety on the gun off and pointed it towards them.

The room seemed to still at the click. Everything turned slow, happening in minute seconds, jolting yet fluid.

"Bear. Put the gun down."

He knew what was coming next, because he had trained with them;

"Let's talk this out."

He was faintly amused by their tries. They should know that this situation wasn't going to work out in their favour. He was disappointed, though, at their unprofessional appeals as they continued trying to make him put the gun down.

He had been trained not to care for anyone on his missions. Trained his entire life to retain a façade of coldness, uncaring aloofness, and beneath that a burning passion to strike back at the world that had let him down so badly. But he was only human, and couldn't help wanting to delay the moment which would surely come- of completely and irrevocably ruining both the bond he had and the people he had them with. After almost seven years of working as a unit in the SAS together, it was inevitable that they'd grown close.

It wouldn't stop him doing his job. He just wanted to delay it.

Taking a moment to examine the gun, Bear wiped a finger over the shining barrel. The gun was midnight black, like a panther, smooth and beautiful. He imagined it would make a purring sound when he pulled the trigger, the bullets coming out like claws striking in straight for the kill.

Their distorted reflections where mirrored in the surface, faces grotesquely stretching but with the expressions of bravery and betrayal and hidden panic (the fools) shining clearly even with the onyx mist of the gun covering it. Bear looked at the people who were reflected, looked at them properly. They didn't confide much about the more personal aspects of their life back home, but he knew enough to know that people would miss them- family, friends.

No matter. It was time.

Bear reached into his pocket, ignoring the stares that locked onto his hand, and pulled out a silencer. He put it on the shot gun and shot Jaguar in the heart.

Clean. Quick. Thoughtless. Instinctive.

Two more bullets came out of the gun. They hit the gaping faces of the other two men, instantly changing them to corpses with a gruesome splatter of brains and shards of bone that exploded out of the backs of their heads as they flew against the wall, thudding onto it and sliding down. With a clinical detachment, Bear stepped over the bodies and put the gun back in his drawer, replacing it with a more easily concealed pistol. He stepped around the pools of blood and pulled out his mobile, turning it on with a tap and punching in the numbers. Placing it by his ear, Bear walked over to the door and locked it as the phone rang.

Someone answered. Explaining the current situation to the person on the other side, Bear allowed himself a small smile as he watched the pieces of his plan slot perfectly into place.

A few hours later, a group of balaclava clad men sneaked up to the SAS camp, let in by Bear through the side entrance- which the cameras trained upon it had been disabled and the guard _taken care of-_ and led to the barracks swiftly. Bear stood back and let the qualified men take in the scene and get to work, placing clues and purpose fingerprints around the room, tracking bloody smears across the walls where an arm had 'brushed' after performing the deed. They conversed with the undercover SAS man in near silent tones, with the cold efficiency of SCORPIA agents. Bear nodded his acquiescence as they silently took off.

He placed the pistol against his wrist, silencer purposely detached, and pulled the trigger.

He barely managed to hold in a gasp at the utter agony that raced through his body from the _hole _in his wrist, oh fuck there was a goddamned _hole in his wrist, _and he managed to slide the pistol away from him before succumbing to unconsciousness in a pool of viscous scarlet blood.

Eel woke with a headache.

When he tried to sit up, it became apparent that the headache was the very least of his worries. He was agonised _everywhere. _His nose sent jolts of light headedness through him, his foot felt heavy, his stomach was churning, his throat was raw, he-

"Welcome to the land of living." someone announced drily. He rolled over to face them, groaning at how shitty he felt. That was weird. Everything was red. No, blue. With hazes of red. That hurt.

"Pain killers..." he slurred. "Give...me..."

"Snake said you're not allowed any more." Leopard announced, smirking. Alex glared at him through slitted eyes.

"Don't care."

"Well unless you're going to get up and get them yourself, I don't really see how your opinion makes a difference." Leopard smiled again at the wince Eel gave at the mere _thought _of moving.

"Please?" he tried.

"Puppy dog eyes don't work when one of them is punched in."

"I'll pay you." Eel begged. There was a moment of extreme pain and when he came to he realized he had no idea what the conversation was about. "What're we talking about again?" he enquired.

"What... oh yeah, Snake said that would happen. Doesn't matter."

Alex's stomach gave a horrible lurch. He forgot any curiosity he might've had about Leopard's cryptic comments. "Okay. But I need painkillers...stop smirking like that!"

Leopard's smug grin only widened. "Tell you what," he said to Eel, leaning in conspiratorially. "You tell me who hurt you, and I'll give you painkillers."

Alex stared at the walls of the barracks. Whitewashed and chipped, with the occasional splash of colour from posters or pictures. A door in the middle... a door... was there something important about that?

No, he conceded. There wasn't.

Okay, above that there was... a stretch of more wall, a layer of dust on the ledge above the door, and then it bent into the ceiling... the ceiling was whitewashed, as well. There were little bits of sello-tape on it, for whatever reason, glimmering from the light which came in from... the window. Ah, the window. It was next to him, and when he turned his head his neck made a clicking sound and there was a brief jump of pain but not that much. What was he?... the window. It was a pane of glass, dusty and smooth, lined with patched curtains and thick with grime. And beyond that there was more barracks, and lots of people. Lots and lots of people, all official looking, crowding around one of the barracks and talking with little mouths opening and closing and all the expressions... so grim...there were- body bags? Being hauled out. Someone had died. _Three _people had died. Before this, lots of people had died, and it was all because of Alex, did he remember all those he'd killed? Did he remember that it was his fault, all his fault, and no pain would ever take that terrible fact away?

The body bags. Three of them. And a stretcher. A man was on it.

"Him." Alex said, in answer to Leopard's sort-of question. "It was him."

Yes, him. Bear? Bear. He'd hurt him. And now?

The pain. It wasn't that bad. He'd had worse. "Can I have a painkiller?"

A pill. Bitter tasting. It didn't work, not yet, but it would, swallowed down with a glass of water. "Point it out for me again." Leopard was saying.

Ah, the question. Alex waved vaguely towards the general direction of the body bags, the man in the stretcher. They had?... the punches, the kicks. They'd done it, the pain. But it didn't matter any more. Something else mattered, but he couldn't remember what.

It wasn't all the people. Or the door. Or the deaths, the pain, the looks. It was...

The pain was faded now. Dull jolts. Alex pulled himself up, biting his cheek so no sound slipped out. He stood up and wavered for a second, but then he stepped towards the door. "Where are you going?" Leopard asked. His voice was too loud. Ringing.

"Shh." Alex said. His voice was hoarse. Weak. A voice of a child.

The thing that mattered. That he was a child. And... someone knew.

Bear. The one in a body bag, the one in a stretcher. One of them. He knew.

There were two options, Alex realised, because Bear was too dumb to figure it out on his own. SCORPIA and MI6. _They knew. _

Breath, Alex, it's not too bad. Well, it is, but you need a clear head to figure this out properly.

SCORPIA. If they knew, he'd be dead by now. Besides, Bear was in SAS for six years before Alex joined, so he wasn't there simply to spy on Alex. Okay. That was good. No SCORPIA.

MI6. But, of course it wasn't them, because he'd be back in their service or in the mental hospital right now. And Ben Daniels had been sent to question him on behalf of MI6 so they wouldn't use a different agent. And why would Bear beat Alex up? MI6 wouldn't want that. They might be bastards, unfeeling bastards who cared nothing for his safety or well being, but they wouldn't needlessly beat him up.

God, his head was so fuzzy. He was missing something here. Something crucial.

Could it be neither? Not MI6, or SCORPIA? Maybe Bear did work it out on his own, somehow. No, that didn't quite ring true in his head...

"Eel? Show me again."

Again? "Over there." Irritation was clear in his voice. _His child voice. _"The body bags. The stretchers. What happened?"

His brain was clearing now, the fuzziness of pain and confusion receding to reality. He was hurt, but not that badly- though in anyone else's standards, it would be regarded unfathomable torment, in his (he had been through so much screaming agony, so much burning fear) it was a mere distraction.

Rather more than a mere distraction, Alex admitted as his foot, which a few moments ago had numbed, leapt back into life, the nerves rejoining with a hot torture, but still; not more than he had suffered. It would be an accomplishment to achieve that.

He realised that Leopard was explaining something to him. "...F Unit. Some bastards came in and shot them all. Only one guy survived, but they don't know if he's gonna make it coz he got shot in the wrist."

_Please say it wasn't Bear who got shot in the wrist, who is still alive. _He didn't ask, though, just in case it was.

"How did they get in?"

"No idea. We weren't told much. There's some meeting about it now, and K Unit, Lion and Rat have gone down for it. I was excused to- you know- look after you."

"Oh." Alex said.

"Yeah. So, you said the guys who hurt you were near the stretcher?"

But his head was clear now. He wasn't about to tell anyone anything, especially when these cold slithers of suspicion were sneaking up on him. "Uh...didn't I tell you to leave me alone about it?"

"Worth a try." Leopard grinned, but Alex could see the worry behind it.

Wait... F Unit. 3 dead, one harmed. His secret was safe.

_F Unit. _It was F Unit. 3 _dead_, one harmed. As long as Bear was dead... Bear, who knew his secret...

"It was F Unit." he told Leopard. "They beat me up."

Because there was no reason to hide it any more, was there? His secret was safe. Because Bear couldn't open his mouth and blab. He was _dead. _

_Please say he's dead. 1 in 4 chance he's not. God, this one time, make him dead._

"Thought they already did that?" Leopard was asking, his mouth wry but brow drawn.

"Yeah... I dunno. Did it again, I guess." The painkillers were working, now. What had lessened to a dull throb had lessened even more to dull jolts every so often.

"If they weren't already dead, I'd kill them." His tone was joking, but his eyes serious.

"S'good they are. Wouldn't want you booted and locked up for murder."

The conversation slowly roamed into more aimless subjects, until Eel's head rushed one too many times and he sank back into bed.

"Wake me up when you know what's happening, kay?" he told Leopard.

"Sure."

Then he went back to sleep, and because life was a living nightmare in physical reality dreams eluded him for a peaceful few hours.

Later, he would remember how he felt, and wonder why everything had to go so sharply downhill from there.

0 00 0 0 0

Rat's real name was Conor MacAuliffe and he was fatherless, and had been for as long as he could remember. He was of Irish decent but living on a sports scholarship in a British boarding school had culled his accent, and he stayed in Britain at university until he turned 23 and joined the army then the special forces, so he had lived in Ireland hardly at all.

He had two sisters, an older and younger. His older sister was called Margaret O'Brien, who had married at the age of 25 and was now 30 with two kids and a mutual hatred towards her brother. They had not made contact for over 5 years, and both were happy to keep it that way.

His younger sister was actually his half sister and now 14 years old, a girl with a strange mix of Irish and Bangladesh blood and a genius in her own right. Her name was Niamh Choudhury, her last name coming from her father. The phone Rat had illegally smuggled in was actually used to contact her- rather than the sought after girl who was way out of his league- and he adored her. She lived with her father, Rat's stepdad, and wanted to follow in the footsteps of her brother and join the army when she was older, though as a medic rather than a fighter.

Rat's mother was a drunk idiot who cared nothing for all three of her children and had put up not much of a fight when Mr Choudhury, Niamh's dad, had broken up with her and taken away his then 3 month year old daughter. She was loved by none, and loved none but herself and alcohol.

Rat tried to focus on the words coming out the official looking people's mouth. "...we don't know how they got in, but we have suspicions of an insider. Our forensics team is looking over the barracks now to determine exactly what happened. The event that has taken place is a tragedy to all and I assure you, those responsible will be taken to justice."

Someone else stepped up, woman with creases in her face and a smart suit. "We would appreciate it if you continued on as normal. No changes will be made to security but we hope you will inform us of any irregularities you notice and anything that you think might be help to the investigation. Please speak up now."

Of course, there was nothing Rat had noticed. Apart from Eel getting beaten up, nothing had changed- wait, was that connected? Somehow?

He saw K Unit and Lion exchanging looks, but as if by mutual consent none of the men spoke up. They _would _be speaking to Eel about it later, no matter how much he tried to avoid it because _jeez, _this was murder.

The lecture continued on then the business people went away and the sergeant informed them training would be cancelled for the rest of the day, but regained tomorrow, and the mess hall would be open at the usual times.

They ended it on the sombre note that the funeral would take place when the forensics team released the body. They would be kept updated on Bear's condition, the person who had been shot in the wrist.

Then they left. K Unit and the two members of D Unit present at the lecture trooped together back up to D Unit's barracks. "Rest of the day off." Lion said, attempting to paste a smile on his face but the grim mood still suffocated everyone. They'd known F Unit only as a frequent victim to Eel's pranks for whatever reason and Bear as Eel's nemesis; but they were SAS, brothers in arms. And the prospect that they weren't safe even in their own country was chilling.

They opened the door and were reminded of their bed ridden friend, who was now asleep, Eel's head lolling against the pillow and a string of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. Lion and Rat were relieved to note that he wasn't having nightmares; they didn't think he wanted K Unit to know, not just yet, anyway.

Everyone settled on chairs and began talking in low voices, careful not to wake Eel. Rat informed Leopard of the current situation- though they hadn't learned much, in the lecture. "MI6." Wolf told them.

"Really?" Rat asked, his tone sceptical.

"Yeah. You know, the whole suited, blank faced type? Who waffle on about a load of nonsense but never really tell you anything?"

"And you know this because..." interjected Lion.

Snake explained, "You know Fox? Who came to visit? And he used to be our old team mate? He joined MI6 a while ago. Still comes to camp from time to time, and Wolf boards with him."

"I always assumed he got booted."

"Nah, he's too good for that."

"So why'd you think MI6 are getting involved?"

"Well, I'm guessing it was the fact that three _murders _just took place on camp, under everyone's noses-"

"No need to be sarcastic." Lion huffed.

"I wasn't." Monkey grinned. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know."

Lion just shook his head, unwilling to get in a conversation with Monkey's skewed logic twisting everything.

There were a few games of poker then Eel, finally, woke up. "Hi." he said to everyone.

Then;

"Why're you staring at me like that?"

**Can I just say, that is probably the worst ending I have ever done for a chapter. Seriously. It's horrible. I kinda lost interest after the 'Lion just shook his head, unwilling to get in a conversation with Monkey's skewed logic twisting everything.' and this sat around on my laptop for ages before the 160th review came in and I thought; better finish it. **

**Uh... the impromptu Rat family history will soon make itself clear, I promise. Probably. Maybe it was to fill up the empty space in front of me, because this chapter I was so uninspired it's not even funny. Not that anyone said it was. Or that I thought it was. Or... yeah. But. Rat's history. Might involve it later, might not... only I know! Evil cackle, except I don't know either. Ah well.**

**In this chapter, Alex was a bit... I dunno. Just go with it, yeah?**

**Please review. For this chapter, I'm not going to do so and so reviews until I update, but I might next chapter... Guess that's it. Bye.**


	8. VIII (8)

**THANK you for all the reviews. Loved them. I was gonna reply to some of them but then wifi crashed so I didn't have a chance to, and then when I looked at them again I couldn't think of anything to say. So just, thanks. **

**To me, this chapter seems a little... disjointed. Lots of time skips, ect. What do you think?**

**WARNING; there is a paragraph, sometime in the second scene, that rambles... a lot. It might not make sense. Bear with me.**

**I may have mentioned earlier. I'm moving. Last time we moved, it took a couple of weeks for wifi to establish itself in our new home. Unfortunately, this time it's gonna be even longer, since we haven't found anywhere yet so we'll probably be living in a hotel for a month or so until we found somewhere, so of course that means no wifi, which means no updating or anything. So don't be alarmed if this story suddenly stops for a month or so. It's not my fault, and I am definitely NOT giving it up, so there's the warning. Everyone I'm having those lovely PMing convos with as well, if I don't reply for ages I'm not giving you the cold shoulder, it's the internet (or lack of). I feel sorry for me too. Feel free to leave sympathetic reviews.**

**Finally! The chapter!**

_I never dreamed because I'm  
Just too busy  
Waiting for nothing...  
And wasting away.  
**Wasting Away, by Tonight Alive**_

The forensics team was, as always, a hive of controlled chaos. Any stranger walking in would instantly denounce it as a catastrophe, but in reality this particular building housed the most efficient of their type; they needed to be, working for the special forces and secret services of Britain.

Three bodies were currently being examined in the morgue. The jury was still out, but the general opinion was one near point blank shot, fired with the efficiency of a trained killer. And that begged the question; who was it?

The obvious suspect was the man still left alive. The _only _man still left alive. But he had been shot in the wrist, was currently in hospital, and the DNA smeared in fingerprints and blood around the cabin had not been his. So the man, code named Bear, was out for a suspect. For now, anyway. If he recovered there was no question of going back into the SAS with an injury of that calibre, but whatever job he took instead they would be keeping an eye on him.

Of course, what no one (good) knew, was that the injury was self inflicted to keep the blame off him, and purposely positioned to cause the least of harm. When he was released from hospital a death would be faked, perhaps, and he would disappear back into the depths of SCORPIA and continue working, with maybe some plastic surgery of such to retain maximum security should he ever bump into some old colleagues.

The forensics team had analysed the DNA and tested it on the database. Every one had come up with a match, painting a picture of three ruthless, well known criminals with high expertise. As added supplementation for that particular route, there was an agenda- each had a history with the SAS, and killing a team could be seen as likely revenge once the physiologists had analysed the situation- and there were other clues, like the footprints had the weight and shape of the respective men, and the precise killing and department stank of the criminals identified.

Yet...

These were the best of the best. And some couldn't help think it was just a _little _too perfect. Everything a _little _too well positioned, a _little _too well planned out. And if the criminals had taken such pains to get in and out so cleanly, why leave such incriminating evidence behind?

Later, because of the doubts the case would be set out on stand by, just in case. But the verdict that the three criminals who had been identified were the murderers would be sent about everyone who needed to know. The priority for the criminals as on Britain's list would be increased a few notches. Anyone connected with the case would be discreetly informed. A drift of the situation would somehow get through to the public through the media, but no one would ever find out much and in honour for the deceased, the names of those murdered would be set to be etched on some monument somewhere in the countryside- it would never actually happen, but it was the thought that counted, after all.

And that was that.

0 00 0 0 00 0 0 00 0 00 0 0

"So, Eel, like to tell us why Leopard says you get beaten up by people who happen to now be murdered?"

Everyone turned to pointedly stare at Eel, now sitting cross-legged on the floor and twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers, who had for the past fifteen minutes been muttering 'traitor' as Leopard explained what Eel had revealed in his confused state. Eel didn't look up and heaved a sigh theatrically. "Dunno." he finally explained. At least, he thought it should count as explanation.

"Eel..."

Alex had known Wolf only for a while when he trained with them, and then a get well card had been the only interaction until a heartfelt moment in the woods and casual conversation in the days afterwards, so he didn't know the man at all that well. But even a fool could hear the warning tone in Wolf's voice.

"What, you think _I _murdered them?" he looked up then, incredulously. "In this state?"

Everyone winced as one at the sight of Eel's all too obvious wounds.

"Wouldn't put it past you." Rat remarked drily. Eel scowled at him. He grinned back, but then his expression sobered. "You're seriously saying you are in no way, shape or form connected to the murder? And have no idea or thought about how it could be connected to them beating you up?"

"I agree to this statement, under the oath of Her Majesty." Eel replied with a straight face. It was Rat's turn to scowl, then he walked over to Eel's side and crossed his arms.

"Well, I believe him." he said to the others, supporting his friend.

Alex looked up at him as everyone else watched. "Really?"

"On second thoughts- no."

Rat uncrossed his arms and walked back to join the now amused men. Eel gave him the finger.

There was a moment of awkward silence as Eel concentrated on tangling his shirt again.

"Do you know who's the one who got shot in the wrist?" Eel asked suddenly.

"Yeah, Bear."

His expression darkened.

"Something wrong?" Snake asked.

"Nothing." Alex shook his head a bit too hard, gritting his teeth as the movement tore open a superficial wound on his neck, the congealed blood that had covered the wound falling off. He clasped a hand to it to staunch the bleeding and after that, there was no more talk of the murder.

The rest of the day was enjoyed by the whole of the SAS. Enjoyed in a morose atmosphere, to be sure, but a day off was a day off and there was training to be missed for a _whole _blissful day. Unfortunately for D Unit and K Unit, despite their team mate's high pain threshold and quick healing Eel was still injured and could not join with any of the other raucous and fun activities they heard throughout the camp. And despite his many protestations of selflessness, Eel refused to let them do things without him and so the day was spent with games of poker and the occasional beer every time someone felt bored enough to reveal their hidden stock. It was a welcome change from the normal rigorous training schedule at least, and gave Eel another day to heal without being asked by superiors exactly _why _he was in such a state, and maybe being forced to recall that little incident with F Unit, and maybe going under suspicion because they had just been murdered. And the rest of D Unit and K Unit, contrary to their snide comments about Eel's dark side, did not believe that he was connected (though they had their suspicions) and felt that being under suspicion would not be a good thing.

D Unit, especially, were worried about what would happen if anyone happened to direct their attention towards Eel. They were rare, now, but if a flashback happened then it could come to light that Eel's state of mind was, to say the least...debatable.

They discussed the possibility between themselves late in the night, when K Unit had gone back to the cabin.

When they finally settled to sleep Alex had a horrible foreboding feeling nestling in his stomach, forcing him to stay awake for sometime.

What was that phrase? _Speak of the bad-situation-that-could-happen and the bad-situation-will-happen._

Or something like that.

And sure enough, something of the like they had been discussing happened the very next day.

0

Eleanora Restarrar was not impressed.

Not impressed at a lot of things. Her father, her school, her mother, her shoes, her hat, her horse, her food. All these combined could- sort of- fit into one word, which combined all she was not impressed with.

_England._

It had seemed like such an adventure, when her mother had informed her that _she _had found a rather lovely male friend and was going to live with him for a while. And this while could, maybe, be a year or so. But not to worry, because she was going to live with her father, in England! Now, wasn't that delightful?

Yes, it was. England was that place in Britain. Or maybe it was Britain. Or maybe Britain was _in _it.

She wasn't quite sure. Geography had never been her strong point- or, indeed, anything to do with academic studies. But that was okay, because her mother was astoundingly, filthily rich and when you were as rich as she was, you didn't have to worry about much. The point was, though, that she was going to live somewhere where people had British accents. And British accents, she knew, were _hot. _And she was going to get one!

Her friends would be so jealous. They were jealous, when they found out. But in a nice way, because you weren't jealous in a nasty way in one of Canada's most prestigious finishing school's where the girls were already learning the complicated etiquette of lying and the tangled world of politics where it didn't do to be jealous in a _nasty _way.

She was straying, again. So. England.

She'd got there and found to her utter dismay that her father was not filthily rich. And could not send her to any nice boarding school where she could get a _hot _British accent, and meet boys with _hot _British accents. Instead, she was going to a public school!

And even worse, they had _cockney _accents! Coarse, horrible, foul mouthed accents and words.

Yes, she was most definitely not impressed.

She'd made a few friends, but they were few and far between, only liking her because of- she wasn't quite sure, actually. The boys seemed to like her, but they had vulgar interests rather than the polite courting she was used to. Everyone was horrible. Horrible, horrible, horrible. Especially that boy- Alex- who she had rather liked, who _continuously _gave her the cold shoulder and ignored her! And it wasn't like he had other girls to choose from, because he was friendless but for that _loser _he hung out with, and-

At least her mother had rescued her, a few months ago, and she'd come back to school to find to her horror that she had developed one of those disgusting accents! But that was curbed, by now, and everything was fine and dandy.

There was one problem, one reason Eleanora Restarrar was not impressed, even now.

She was going _back_ to England!

At least, she mused, it would only be for one day. She was going with her mother to meet someone very important there, so important, in fact, that they were going to have extremely special protection- Britain's elite, men from the special forces, SAS- and they were going to have some delicious dinner and these very important people would most certainly have British accents, and if she couldn't get them in that amount of time then at least she'd _hear _them.

So all in all, she wasn't that _not impressed, _but if her mother thought so then she might get that aforementioned horse replaced with something better as compensation.

A wardrobe restocking wouldn't do much harm, either.

And was her hat a little tattered?

0

It started with a bang, as those things do.

They were in the training hall, the only two units at the time practising in material arts in that place. Snake had deemed Eel not sufficiently healed yet, so he sat inconspicuously at the side, watching as the other seven men practiced and occasionally calling out tips/ insults. Wolf and Rat were currently fighting. Eel was on Wolf's side, because Rat had called him a wimp for sitting out.

"Rubbish punch, Rat! Yes, yes, Wolf, beat him up! Knee him, quick, nooo... Rat, you're so slow, you know that? And stupid. Hah, tripped up. Stupid."

And so the running commentary continued.

He didn't know why it happened. As far as he was concerned, the murder was one of those mysteries of life- a dangerous mystery, to be sure, but once he had confirmed that Bear was not coming back into the SAS his fears had been mainly set at peace. Of course, there were many unresolved matters circulating that but nothing too pressing... or maybe they were, but he was too happy to ruin his life just at that moment.

So it wasn't that.

Maybe it was because fate had sworn to mess up his life, and now everything seemed almost happy (god forbid) it was honour bound to fuck him up again. Or maybe it was just that something up there had realised that he wasn't good enough to deserve- anything, and had sent this down as punishment.

Either way, when a cold sweat started soaking Alex's back for no reason and a tremor shook his hands involuntarily, he knew that with a desperate feeling of foreboding that came _too late _that it was about to begin.

No one had noticed, yet. They would.

His vision started to blur around the edges (he knew these signs, oh fuck it just had to happen _again_) and suddenly he was enveloped in darkness before his eyes cleared again and he was in a cold, dark room.

For fuck's sake _this wasn't real _it wasn't _fucking happening _please just- it wasn't real wasn't real not listening wasn't real wasn't here don't care what you say it _wasn't real-_

It WASN'T REAL! But still, the cold was biting into his bones and there was a complete exhaustion nestling like some malicious ulterior consciousness behind his eyes and fuck it because maybe, yes it wasn't real but it sure seemed like it. And it sure seemed like he was in the cell, waiting and waiting and waiting and listening to the seconds tick past with bullet sounds from the speakers overhead and loud music he couldn't_ get away from- _no, this wasn't real. He hadn't just got back from America, broken and hurting from the rejection from the Pleasure's when they couldn't handle him any more (was it me? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry. _No, no don't be... _please don't send me back. _We're sorry you're just too... EVIL MURDERING BASTARD KILLED THEM ALL EVERYONE HATES YOU) _and the MI6 hadn't just extended the invitation for him to take another mission, and he hadn't just accepted it. He wasn't captured and being mentally tortured which would lead to him being classified insane, because that had all happened a long time ago. It wasn't now.

_It wasn't real. _

And he was back in that chair again, and he couldn't _move _and those sounds were just thudding into his brains, loud screams and shatters and gun blasts and every time he got used to it and started drifting off to sleep _they'd _pour buckets of water over his head and crank the volume up, until it hurt his ears (so tired want to go to sleep please? Sorry didn't mean to just want to go to sleep) and started drilling into his brain, ripping him apart again and again until (all the king's horses and all the king's men) well they couldn't put him back together again...

No, no he was in the training hall. _He was in the training hall. _He was screaming and thrashing and everyone was looking at him and crowding him and D Unit had sorrow in their eyes as they explained and it was all ruined, everything he'd worked so hard for- but _he was in the training hall, and this wasn't real. _

Then the men entered the room and untied him. Explained they were MI6, rescuing him. Expressions of horror at his state had been seen on their faces upon entering but now they were blank, and helping him stagger along with the noises still drilling into his head. _Quiet. _They said. _Be quiet, and you'll be out soon._

And he wanted that, he really did, but when he couldn't hear anything (anything loud, at least) the silence somehow got to him worse then the loud noises had. It was stark and terrifying and endless and enveloped him and suffocated him and took all that he was and wrapped it in a sheet of silence. He wanted noise. _Needed _noise. So he opened his mouth and did something he'd done a lot; he screamed and everything was a blissful hive of pure, desperate sound before they all flooded into the hallway and started fighting them.

But at least there was noise. No more quiet.

Fuck it, that had happened ages ago. He was _recovered _now. Or, he was meant to be.

There were two worlds warring for his vision, his mind; the fighting corridor and his broken, tired state and the loud noises and the training hall, all of them gathered round and watching him screaming.

He opened his eyes in the second world and tried to tell them what he thought was true; "It's not real."

But the words came out in a garbled mess and he realised that the first world was real. He had been tortured. He had ruined his escape attempt. He had not seen the sun in ages, and probably never would again, and he was hoping to die.

So he didn't fight as they flooded in, just watched in the shadows as the agents pulled out guns and started shooting (loud sounds, can't get to sleep please? Want to go to sleep) and then fighting and then died.

And he didn't know why he did what he did but his tired feet stumbled past the massacre and confusion and shouts of _he's escaped! _and he was out in the sun again.

The beautiful, blood stained sun, who beamed tears upon him and sent jagged words of pain into his eyes.

He saw their getaway vehicle; a nondescript black car (it was always a black car) with a stern faced driver who was obviously MI6 (well, Alex hoped).

There was a comforting sound of traffic which was not too loud but didn't have any quiet in it, either. Alex walked over to the car with a terrifying ease he'd forgotten on weak, shivering legs and he tumbled in into the open door and then (can I sleep now?) he fell asleep.

It was the first sleep he'd have in a while after escaping that contained no nightmares, no dreams. When he woke up he'd be filled with those terrible feelings of guilt and the world would come tumbling down and nothing would be the same.

Then he opened his eyes in the second world and realised again that this was the real world. He'd just suffered a flashback. Everyone was looking at him worriedly as they helped him up, seeing his eyes clear from the glaze that had overtaken them.

Rat shared a glance with him, before Wolf said; "What the fuck was that?!"

**Was that unexpected? Did you like it? **

**Just thought to tell you; had a massive dose of Chris Ryan (if you haven't read his books, you should) and I realise how totally ignorant I am of anything military. It's shameful, really. I might've said this before, but EVERYTHING TO DO WITH SAS IN THIS STORY IS PROBABLY WRONG. Sorry if it's unrealistic, but let's pretend UK has a weird army division which is like this and called SAS but not actual SAS, and then it will be realistic, right? **

**Ok, that didn't make sense.**

**Before I did the review thing, because whenever I got the amount of reviews I needed it made me move my ass and get typing. Otherwise I'm afraid I'd let this story just... fall away. I can set deadlines for myself- and always do- but I'm nearly always just lying to myself. Other people forcing me to do something, or if I've promised them something actually works. So that's why I do it. But it seems kinda like cheating so I might not do it for now. But still, REVIEW!**

**I'm planning a sequel for this. Called Deaths That Shape Us. It will be a crossover, between Alex Rider and either Gallagher Girls or Cherubs. I don't know which one to choose, since I've got some scenes I'd really like to write out for both so I want you guys to decide. Poll is up on my profile, much appreciated if you vote. People who haven't read either of them, I'll give a little summary of the characters/settings I'll be using from the series chosen so just vote randomly or not at all if you have on idea of any of them. A sequel to that is planned, Pain That Ends Us, Avengers and Alex Rider, if I ever get that far. THanks for the support!**

**So review and vote!**


	9. 9 Lives Are Only For Cats

**Okay. This is from after I'd put out the chapter. Eleanorar Starrar is the girl at the bottom. She knows Alex because she used to go to school with him. She's a spoilt brat. She's crazy about him, so recognises him. She doesn't like him because he rejected her. She's Canadian. Alex is sent to guard her. Please, please don't send any more reviews about 'OMG! I can't wait to see how Eleanor knows Alex!'**

_Hello, hello  
Anybody out there?  
Coz I don't hear a sound  
Alone, alone  
I don't really know where the world is  
But I miss it now_

_I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name  
Like a fool at the top of my lungs  
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright but it's never enough  
**Echo, Jason Walker**  
_

Alex stared blearily up at the seven men surrounding him.

3 worried faces, 4 confused and suspicious. Dammit.

"I said, what the fuck was that?" Wolf shouted again. Alex winced, then clenched his fists angrily- _no showing weakness, you bastard- _then scowled at himself because he was going back into spy mind-frame, and fuck it he was _away _from that shit now.

"Eel?" prompted Snake.

Or not.

He looked at Rat for help,who shared with him a sympathetic glance before turning to the rest of the men. "That," he announced grandly. "Was aliens, zapping Eel because he foiled them last time they tried to conquer the earth by turning them into these super squeaky midgets. So they get back at him by zapping him with gold mind zappers, which makes him like that." There was a moment of silence as everyone stared at Rat, Rat looked expectantly back at them and Alex stared at the ground and tried not to laugh. Then; "Shut up, Rat."

But the atmosphere had lightened, and half grins were on everyone's faces, and the suspicion had gone. Rat could be a real manipulator when he felt like it without you even knowing, Alex mused, and wondered how many times Rat had done it to him without him noticing.

Then he realised that Rat had done it to him just then, because he was trying to _stop himself laughing _and he'd just had a flashback. A ghost of which was still floating behind his eyes, a faint image imprinted on his retinas, and careful it might just swallow him up again-

"Eel?"

"Wha- oh, I'm fine."

"Right. Now explain what happened, without the alien stuff." Wolf said tersely.

"I, uh, kinda havetheseflashbacksandthey'renotreallybadit'sjustt hatumIguesswell..."

"What?"

"Heh, sorry. Weeeell, it's a medical condition. I have a doctor's note. Wanna see it?" he looked hopefully up at them, remembered he was sitting on his ass and stood up, feeling annoyed when the fact remained that he was still looking up at them.

"It's not school." Monkey said amusedly. "We don't need a doctor's note, and you're not using it to get you out of anything. Now explain the 'medical condition'."

Air quotes looked really stupid on a twenty something, bulky SAS man. Alex decided to forgo mentioning anything.

"I was abused." the lie flowed easily from his mouth. Then again, it wasn't _really _a lie- MI6 were using him- kinda- for child labour- kinda- and that counted as child abuse- right? "The thing you just saw was me having a flashback, and no, I don't really want to talk about it."

Cue awkward pause.

Don't spoil it by laughing, for god's sake it wasn't funny, _don't laugh-_

"I hate to ask this, but," said Snake gracelessly, taking away any urge to laugh. "Isn't it, um, dangerous? Like if you suddenly had a flashback in the middle of an operation or a dangerous situation."

_You're a poet, and you didn't even know it! _All Alex's best quips were wasted in his head.

"It only happens when I feel... peaceful." explained Alex.

"Oh. And the sergeant knows about it? Just in case?"

"Eh...no."

"Well-"

"Please don't tell him." Alex begged, fear suddenly welling up inside him. "Or anyone. Please don't tell anyone!" He couldn't go back to that white room, the blinding white room and restraints he couldn't move help, anyone there? Can someone speak to him he was supposed to be safe, why wasn't he safe? MI6 had rescued him, so why couldn't he move?

"-Eel!"

"What!?" he snapped back.

Eagle took a half step back, cautiously. "We won't tell anyone, okay?"

"Okay." he replied, and suddenly his voice was small and weak, and he felt desperately tired.

_Can I go to sleep now? Please?_

_Please?_

He stood and strode out.

O0o

When they'd finally abandoned him, he'd walked.

He'd backed away from Sabina's sad gaze, and her father's apologetic sternness, and her mother refusing to meet his eyes, and he'd almost opened his mouth. He'd almost begged for them to take him back, almost promised that he'd try harder, he'd fit in, he'd _work. _And then he'd turned on his heel abruptly and walked out. Just opened the door and walked out.

There were no tears blinding his eyes- he was too much in shock for that- but the world was still blurred, swaying, spinning. He walked with his hood up and earphones plugged in and eyes on the ground, feet slapping the pavement to the beat of the angry screams in his ears. A high keening started somewhere back in his head so he fumbled for the MP3 player and turned the volume up, to the highest it could go, pushed it back into his pocket and walked, and walked, and walked.

And then the music started invading his head and becoming another of the ragged creatures clawing at his defences, his weakening barriers; he pulled them out quickly, letting them fall to the ground, and took off running. He ran until the breath was hot and burned up his throat and sliced back down, and his legs were weak and the sky was black. Then he sunk against a wall and let himself cry, and felt even more hollow when no tears came.

He stood up again, when he had calmed down, suffocated the feeling. He was going to go home, sort this out- then he realised, he had no home, and he started walking again. Aimlessly, listlessly, lost, and found himself on the plane back to England.

Everything was a blur and suddenly it wasn't. Suddenly he was in a room, and alone. And he had been alone for a long time, even before he went into the room, even before all he could see were walls and a ceiling and the floor and his own dirty hands- because they'd all abandoned him, all left him.

When he was released from the room he walked, as well. This time he had a purpose. He went into a building and came out with false documents, which he hid in a bank account. He went to MI6 to inform them that he was leaving them and was instantly deemed insane and put in a mental asylum. Of course, he was deemed insane before that but who cared about his medical state as long as he was useful? And now he was not- so back in a room, with restraints, and no tears. And the flashbacks and nightmares kept hitting him and all he could do was lie there shaking and come to looking at the ceiling, that damned ceiling that gazed right back down at him and didn't care at all.

A blur again, then he was outside. A breath of cold, beautiful fresh air- false documents in hand, a new name. _Thomas Smith. _Black hair, no longer a minor. His own man.

Of course, MI6 were now on the lookout for him, so he had to find somewhere to hide. Nothing but the simplest of jobs would take a young man with no qualifications and no where to live- he had no money for university or college. The only place he knew MI6 would never think to look was SAS. One, because he never wanted to work for the government again, and working in SAS was basically an extension of that, and MI6 knew that. Two, it was probably one of the only places MI6 didn't have spies; SAS was, essentially, the same branch of the things MI6 worked for- safety of the country. And thirdly, he'd hated it there last time, so why would he go back by choice?

Because it was the least likely place he would go. So he signed up for it, and was accepted.

If he was truthful to himself, the thing that perhaps attracted him the most went completely against anything he had been taught. There were plenty other places supposedly far more appropriate for someone on the run from MI6. The reason was the tight bond he has seen between SAS men at his time there, a bond forged by peril and hardship and loyalty. And he _wanted _that. He wanted it, and now he had it. With his unit, now with K Unit.

Now, why did it feel like it was slipping right out of his hands?

Like all the other relationships in his life had. So he had to do all he could to stop it going the same way.

o0o

"We're _babysitting_?"

"Well, no. Protecting, from potential terrorists."

"Babysitting."

"...essentially, yes."

"Great. We get extra pay for this, right?"

"...no."

"What? We have to look after some spoiled, rich brat for a whole day, and there's a three hour drive there, might I add, which is gonna be torture with Eagle, Rat _and _Eel, and we don't even get extra pay?!"

The sergeant, for once, felt himself giving in. He might outwardly be a hard faced man who cared nothing for his men, but in reality his whole _job _was looking after them- and he was able to feel empathy for soldiers put on the more distasteful tasks. Which was certainly an exaggeration if the rumours about that kid they were guarding was true.

"Fine, extra pay."

"Thank you, sir." Wolf said, and knowing his sergeant's habits hurried out before the said man could change his mind.

He jogged over to the barracks to deliver the unwelcome news. Eel was looking much better, propped up against his bunk and flipping through some car magazine, Eagle, Monkey, Snake and Lion were playing poker while Rat and Leopard were alternating between absent-mindedly flicking water at each-other, shooting worried glances at Eel and provoking taunts at the poker players, since they had lost after the first few rounds and so now had to get revenge by annoying the victors. "We have a new operation to complete." Wolf announced. Everyone turned to stare at him as he walked over to the bunk Eel was leaning against and sat down.

"Well? What is it?" Snake said impatiently. Wolf shook his head at him sadly.

"Patience, patience."

A few seconds passed.

"Tell us already." groaned Eagle eventually.

"Okay. Tomorrow, we're going to London-"

"How long is the drive there?" Lion interrupted.

"What?"

"The drive. To London. How long is it?"

"Three hours."

Groans all around, Rat, Eagle and Eel grinning and high fiving.

"Anyway, we're gonna protect some kid and her mum, from Canada, 'cause they're meeting someone important. We're basically gonna act as bodyguards for a day."

"They famous?" piped up Eel eagerly.

"Eh...dunno. They might be... in Canada. The person they're meeting is, though."

"Who is he? Can I get an autograph?"

"We're not gonna be seeing him. Because we're not protecting him."

"Aw, shucks."

"Shucks?"

"Shucks." Eel nodded.

Amused glances passed around the room. Eel scowled.

"When are we leaving again?"

"Tomorrow."

"Where are we going again?"

"London."

"What are we doing again?"

"Acting as body guards."

"Where are they from again?"

"Canada."

"Are they famous again?"

Wolf turned on Rat and Eel exasperatedly. "You're doing this to annoy me, aren't you?"

"Nooo-" started Eel.

"Never-" protested Rat, looking wounded.

"Yep." they sighed. Wolf flicked them off.

"Remember, wake up early tomorrow. We're leaving early."

o0o

Alex groaned as he was shaken roughly out of bed. It wasn't even _light _yet.

Wait. It was.

"Sunlight hurts my eyes!" he screamed at Lion, clawing at his face and mock singing in a crude, messed up version of Modestep's song.

Lion looked at him. "Are you okay?" he enquired hesitantly. Alex scowled at him and crawled back onto the bunk, pulling up all the blankets onto his head.

He didn't want to start _acting _again. Go through the day with a fake character, forced smile, jokes from someone else. Why did he have to pretend every single aspect of the day? Why did it have to be him?

Keep that bond. He had to keep that bond, and if that meant forming into someone he was not day on day he would do that.

He pulled the blankets off himself morosely and started getting dressed, a depressed expression on his face and movements slow from the aches of not-quite healed wounds. Lion started after him, looking confused at his sudden change but shook his head to himself and went to wake up Rat, sighing in relief that there was at least one _other _sane person in the group- Leopard, thank god, was already up.

Once everyone was ready they ran down to the canteen, to meet with K Unit and have a quick breakfast before Wolf shouted at them to move-their-asses-we're-gonna-be-late! which was never nice for bystander's eardrums. Eel, Lion noted, was away from his depressed state- what was up with the sudden mood swings? But at least he was back to normal, injuries from his beating practically healed in what Snake declared to be in superhuman speed.

There was a moment of chaos when it was revealed there were no vehicles free to take them to London, so they had to hire a ten seat taxi- something Rat was unusually ecstatic about- which cost obscene amounts of money, as all taxis did in England. Wolf got the sergeant to pay for it and they all loaded in, in full SAS army gear.

Eagle and Rat and Eel spent the whole morning chatting together, a thing their team-mates found extremely worrying.

When the taxi finally came- (we're going to be late. I'm suing that taxi company! This is nearly a national emergency! We're gonna be late and not get the extra pay!- Wolf)- they loaded in and it drove off.

The three men at the back- Eagle, Rat, Eel- were conspicuously silent for the winding drive through Beacon Brecon's gates. The second they came out, the men burst into a horrible version of a well known nursery rhyme- I Knew An Old Lady Who Swallowed A Fly.

"I knew an old lady who swallowed a fly, I don't know why she swallowed the fly. I guess she'll die."

"I told you they were up to something!"

"Come on, singing?"

"They're gonna keep this up for the rest of the car journey!"

"Don't worry, it's not that long."

"Thank god."

"My ears hurt already."

"...I knew an old lady who swallowed a cat. Imagine that, to swallow a cat!"

"Please, has someone got earphones? I'll give you half my money. All my money. Please!"

"I'm ordering you to shut up. Now! That's orders!"

"...She swallowed the cat to catch the spider..."

"I'm kicking you out of SAS!"

"...my, what a hog, to swallow a dog!"

"Ignore them."

"I am so beating you three up the second we get out of this car!"

"Please, shut up..."

"How many verses left?"

"...who swallowed a cow. I wonder how she swallowed a cow? She swallowed the cow to catch the goat-"

"Thank god, one more verse after this."

"One more!"

"Yes! Then peace!"

"One more..."

"I don't know why she swallowed a fly. Perhaps she'll die. I knew an old lady who swallowed a horse..." they let it trail off dramatically, while the SAS men waited in anticipation. "She's dead, of course!"

Cheers and hoots filled the taxi. The taxi driver stared at the road- he had driven worse.

"I knew an old lady who swallowed a magical-tractor."

"What?!"

"Oh dear god..."

"For fuck's sake? They're still singing? How!?"

"She swallowed the magical-tractor to bring her back to life because the horse killed her. She swallowed the horse to catch the cow, she swallowed the cow to catch the dog, she swallowed the dog to catch the cat-"

Every single man in the taxi, barring the driver and singers, put their heads in their hands or beat their heads against the seat in front of them. Wolf, sitting up front, turned up the radio in an attempt to drown out the noise; it rose to a shrieking crescendo. "-she swallowed a fly; perhaps she'll die. I knew an old lady who swallowed a spaceship. She swallowed a spaceship to keep the magical-tractor company. She swallowed the magical tractor to bring her back to life-"

"That. Is. It."

The song paused for a moment as everyone turned to stare at the normally calm Leopard; the three singing shrugged, and resumed. Leopard started turning red. "Enough, I said!"

Again, it quietened. The occupants of the taxi held their breath as it trundled on. Then;

"...she swallowed the dog to catch the cat, she swallowed the cat to-"

"SHUT UP!"

By now, Leopard's uncharacteristic anger ceased to surprise the singers and they continued on.

"I knew an old lady who swallowed a galaxy. She swallowed a galaxy for the spaceship to go in, she swallowed the spaceship to keep the magical-tractor company, she swallowed the magical-tractor to bring her back to life because the horse killed her, she swallowed the horse to catch the cow-"

"WE'RE HERE!"

The taxi screeched to a stop, sliding back into a parking space with a smooth efficiency. The driver took his earphones out (wasn't that dangerous?) and opened the door for everyone to get out, which they gladly did, everyone but the singers piling over each-other in a somewhat comical attempt to escape the taxi. Wolf strode round the back and opened the boot, collecting his belongings and standing back for the others to do the same.

It was a short walk to Alain Ducasse- which, as Snake informed the others, was one of the most highly rated restaurants in the UK and the most expensive- then they were there, requesting a table with a Mrs Restarrar and Ms Restarrar; the rich Canadian chick and her brat. Eel and Rat continued singing 'I Knew an Old Lady' lightly under their breath, but after they got past the 'I knew an old lady who swallowed a black hole, to suck up the universe, to hold the galaxy, for the spaceship to go in, to keep the magical-tractor company, to bring her back to life from the horse that killed her, to catch the cow' ect, they had to admit defeat and instead infuriate the others by humming the tune lightly.

Of course, that rather peaceful mood vanished abruptly when they sat down uncomfortably at the table with their charges and Eleanorar looked at Eel and said; "Alex?"

At least it stopped him humming.

**I Knew an Old Lady dedicated to my father, who succeeded in annoying my mother to the extent she stopped the car on our three hour drive. And yes, the song quote at the top is long, but it's coz those lyrics fit Alex so perfectly. (Dunno if I've mentioned, but all quotes are from songs.) Hope you enjoyed, please review!**

**Right. We're in the process of moving house, and have had no wifi for the past few weeks and will not have wifi for the next few weeks. I'm updating this because I'm at a friend's house and she's letting me use her wifi (thanks) but it's a one off, so don't expect any more for a long time.**

**Don't worry, I'm not completely starved of internet. My dad has (finally!) got me a data package on my phone, and being the beautiful thing it is I can surf the Internet and go on fanfiction (sigh of relief) and reply to PM's and check emails... but not update. Unfortunately.**

**And, sorry to say this, but forget the whole sequel thing. One, it's too early to think about that stuff, and two, I don't know if I'll be bothered in the future. I am finishing this story, though, and there is a long way to go- and a lot of angsty stuff :)- so don't worry about that. But, forget the sequel. 25 people voted, thanks for all the support, but it's not going ahead (for time being.)**

**Bye!**


	10. Chapter Ten of 10

**Urgent: if you don't know who Eleanorar Starrar is, scroll right to the bottom. Then back up.**

**Hey, guys. I'm not back. Unfortunately. As before, I am at a friend's house, who is again letting me use her wifi provided I buy her Maryland cookies (food of the gods) and I'm still moving. Well, unpacking. But wifi hasn't been granted yet, so this is another quick update which I am really glad for because it's just really nice to give a quick update. Ok. Um, edited before chapters, adding song quotes to the top of each; I had no where to put a load of these lovely lyrics hovering everywhere, so now they're in this fanfic.**

**CHAPTER 10 **

_And I'm a man with many dreams, _

_I've seen them all fall straight to the bottom; _

_I'm all alone inside you see, _

_Just take a deep breath, _

_And watch me fall down._

_**Oceans, by Mallory Knox**_

"Alex?" she said.

Eleanorar Starrar was looking extravagantly obnoxious, with large curls in her sparkling hair and thick makeup hiding every inch of her skin. Her dress was low cut and tight, and her bra a little too big for a fifteen year old so the straps were slipping down her arm. Her nails were a loud red and feet clad in spangled high heels, which the SAS men unconsciously flinched at; how anyone could walk in them was a feat they'd never thought possible.

"Oh my god, it's you!" she giggled. Alex closed his eyes tiredly.

Why?

Why him?

"I can't believe it's you! How many years has it been? Just one! We should _so _catch up sometime-"

"You know her?" Rat asked his friend quietly. Alex turned to him, trying his best to ignore the now perturbed looking Eleanorar.

"Unfortunately. She used to go to my school, back when-" he realised his mistake instantaneously. School? Why did he say that? Please don't catch on, please-

"Totally!" Eleanorar butted in. "It was, like, at Brooklands. I can't believe I'm seeing you again, Alex!"

Rat was looking between the two with a frown. "How old are you, Eleanorar?" he enquired.

"Just turned fifteen, and-"

"How comes you guys were at school together?" Rat asked. "Seeing as Eel is twenty one."

"Eel?" Eleanorar asked confusedly.

"I'm guessing you know him as Alex." Rat told her. "Apparently-" he directed a look at an ashen faced Eel. "-he changed his name to Thomas when he turned eighteen, and-"

"Eighteen? No, Alex is my age!"

"Um. Eleanorar. How about we.. go outside for a second?" Alex butted in hurriedly.

Seriously? It had to happen, now?

God, he pleaded, raising his eyes to the sky. If you're up there, please have mercy. I didn't mean to sing the I Knew an Old Lady song. It was Rat's idea. If this is punishment, please, please have mercy. 'Coz you're the guy big on forgiveness, right?

Or was he confusing God with Gandhi?

Gandhi, then, please. If you're up there, please-

Up?

"Sure!" Eleanorar tittered, breaking him out of his momentary confusion. She stood up, and lurched towards him, lips puckered as if expecting a kiss- really?

Rat gently pushed her back down. "Sorry, ma'am, but for safety reasons I must require you to remain seated." he informed her curtly. He turned to Wolf. "Wolf, can I take Eel out for a few minutes?"

Wolf nodded his agreement, in the middle of conversing with Lion and knowing that when Rat was serious- because Rat? Serious?- it was best to let him do what he wanted, and Rat steered Alex out the restaurant.

Karma was such a bitch.

Rat took Eel by the wrist and dragged him out, weaving round the tables and extravagantly dressed diners staring at them unashamedly- their SAS uniform contrasted sharply with the low lighted, comfortable, expensive atmosphere- before opening the doors and stepping out into the sunlight. Eel didn't dare speak, and Rat's vision was slightly red, reminding him of those anger management classes he'd gone to so long ago, at school.

And this _boy, _this _child _was still meant to be at school-

Rat spotted a bench sitting by the road, in a patch of straggled brown grass, with a single daisy wilting out beside it with an air of a certain reluctance about the flower, if that was possible. He walked over to it, Eel following dismally behind him. They sat down.

The bench was mottled brown wood, with chewing gum dried on the handles and dog turds resting peaceably beneath it, an inscription carved into the back; _Jamilia Chowdhury, 1998-2007. Loved by all. _Eel stared at it and turned to Rat. "I knew someone called Jamilia." he said cheerfully. "But she's still alive. And she wasn't loved by anyone. She was a bitch."

Rat stared at him for a moment.

"How old are you?"

Eel shrugged, managing to slide a slightly amused expression onto his face. "Twenty three?"

"Don't mess with me." Rat said coldly. "I'm not in the mood. Tell me right now, straight, how old you are. And don't you dare lie."

"Rat-" he started.

"Tell me!"

"What will you do?" he asked him suddenly, quickly. No trace of humour was in Eel's face. "If I'm what you think I am, what are you going to do?"

Rat didn't move. "Eel. Tell me."

"I- I can't. You don't understand. I _can't." _His voice was desperate, a plea clear in his tone.

Why him?

Why?

"I don't _care. _I don't care if you can't, or won't, or shouldn't. You tell me right now, or I'll go back to Eleanorar and in front of everyone ask her to confirm what I thought I heard her say- that you and her are the same age. Are you twenty three, or not?!"

"Not." he said quietly.

"Are you fifteen? Like Eleanorar?"

"I..." he coughed. Seemed to shrivel up in himself. Bit his lip. Tangled his fingers. Closed his eyes, breathed softly.

Was this it?

Everything he had, gone?

"I- yes."

Rat stood up and walked back to the restaurant.

Alex leant back against the bench, sighing heavily at the sudden stinging of his eyes. He traced the grooves on the wood of the bench rhythmically, taking no particular comfort out of the movement but doing it to keep busy, to keep doing _something _because otherwise he'd have to acknowledge what he'd always feared, always dreaded. That his façade was finally spiralling apart, finally crumbling- _everything dies, sometime- _it was too soon- _never too young to die. Never_ _too young to be alone._

And he was alone, now. He was alone. They- they were going to abandon him. _Leave _him.

_Please, don't leave... I just, I want to... I'm sorry. _

_I'm sorry._

_Words won't fix anything, Alex. Don't you know that? You did wrong. You're going to be punished now, okay?_

_Okay?_

_I just... _

_Can I.. can I go to sleep now?_

_Please?_

He stood up, moving mechanically. He crossed the road, barely glancing at either side- _if a car hit him, maybe, maybe he would- maybe it would all be over, and he'd- can I go to sleep, now?- _and strode up to the restaurant, swinging the doors open and walking over to Wolf- _please? Can I-_ "What shall I do?" he asked stiffly.

"What happened out there?" Wolf enquired curiously. "Rat won't tell us anything, he just came back in looking angry. Why'd he want to go out in the first place?"

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry- _"We... just had a disagreement."

Wolf didn't ask further. "Whatever you say. You can go stand out by the back with Rat- maybe you can sort out your differences."

_All alone, now. All a fake. Didn't you know? Didn't you realise? _"Can I- can I not?"

"Eel. Go. I've never seen Rat like that, and neither has Lion and he knew him the longest. Go talk to him. You look rough as well- we can't have divisions within each-other like this."

_I'm sorry. _"I... okay."

He knew that Rat knowing his age wasn't the end of the world. But it was a stripe of his façade, a giant one, and underneath the skin was red and raw and reminding him of just what would happen if they found out about everything else. _Everything else. _And, and- what if Rat told someone? What if someone high up got to hear, or- and they kicked him out? Or they investigated further into his records- why was a fifteen year old allowed?- and he knew that no fake was perfect, if they looked hard enough they'd find some small discrepancy and it would... it would all come falling apart.

And all he could do was watch.

As he passed the Starrar's table to go to the back, Eleanorar grabbed his arm. "Alex!" she said. "I forgot to ask. Why are you in the SAS?"

He stared at her, and pulled his arm out of her grasp. _Let... go! Get off me! Help, someone! _"Doesn't matter." he walked to the back.

Rat was standing outside, eyes searching over his surroundings in an uncharacteristic display of concentration. Alex walked up to him quietly, taking full advantage of his spy past, and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Rat?"

Rat whirled around, hand instantly on his gun.

"Rat? I- I'm sorry."

_Please- _"You're _sorry?_"

"Yes?" Alex tried, unable to gauge his best friend's mood.

"You're sorry?" Rat repeated. "You lie, you lie to everyone and- and me, and all you can say is _I'm sorry_?"

"What do you want me to say?" Alex exploded back at him. "I lied because I knew _this _is how you'd react. And it's not even that a big deal! I'm a few months younger than the legal age- sixteen- for joining the army-"

"With parental permission! And you're not allowed into actual dangerous situations until eighteen!"

"My parents abused me." Oh god, he _hated _lying like this. "And eighteen is only three years away!"

"Three years you could use to learn, to be a normal teenager. Three years you could change your mind about the army in. And this is SAS, not the army!"

"But I don't want those three years! I've made my decision now!"

"You- this isn't about whether you've made your decision or not. It's about the fact that you are a child."

"I'm NOT!" he was uncomfortably aware of how childish he sounded. "You don't know what I've been through. You don't know anything about me!"

"You're right." Rat agreed sadly. "I don't. Because since something this big has been a lie, then I don't know if anything else about you that I know is true either."

And it hurt so much, because Rat was right. He was so right and he didn't even know- that Eel was a lie, a complete lie. Alex instantly felt guilty, and wanted to strike back, because it _wasn't his fault- _"So this is what it's about?" he said scornfully, regretting the words even as they came out of his mouth. "It's about whether I'm your _friend _or not? You think I actually care?" No, he wasn't doing this- please, he couldn't- _don't believe me, I don't mean it, please- _

And all he could do was watch. Watch as Rat crumpled for a second, then stood up and something in his eyes hardened. Watch as something went _snip! _And everything he'd ever valued went floating away, until he couldn't see them any more and his heart was hurting from trying to reach out for it.

"No." Rat said. "I might've cared once. I would've cared about Eel. But you- you're not Eel. I don't know you, so I don't care whether I have your friendship or not."

"Rat-" he said, gasping, gabbling, trying to make this right, _don't turn away!- _"Rat, wait, I'm sorry-"

He was walking away-

"I didn't mean it- please! Rat, come back!"

Why wasn't he running after him? Why wasn't he turning Rat around, telling him this, telling him he didn't mean it of course he didn't mean it he was sorry, so sorry, and his stupid feet they weren't fucking _moving- why weren't they moving? _What was wrong with him?

"I'm sorry." he whispered to the ground. It stared back up at him, just like the ceiling in the mental asylum; watching and not moving to do anything, watching with an unreadable blankness, a disgusting carelessness- just like him.

0

The drive back was cold and awkward. Lion had silently swapped places with Rat so Lion was sitting at the back with Eel and Eagle, and Rat was at the front. The tension hovered almost tangibly; so much all the occupants started wishing for I Knew An Old Lady, anything to get back something that they couldn't put their finger on but that had been torn irrevocably from what was once a tight bond.

They correctly attributed it (the tension) to the two who sat and refused to answer with anything but grunts; Eel and Rat, who also didn't communicate once the entire journey. Leopard hesitantly enquired as to what happened to be the matter and got his head bitten off by Rat; Monkey made the mistake of asking Eel, in no long winded manner, what had crawled up his arse and died and was taken aback by the number of filthy expletives mixed into a number of creative but barely comprehensible insults that instantly spewed from the dark haired man and stopped when he lost breath.

When they arrived at Brecon Beacons, even the taxi driver let out a barely audible sigh of relief when they were let out of the enclosed atmosphere of the car.

Rat had a dark expression on his face; when Snake was opening the boot Eel tapped Rat on the shoulder, mouth open in readied apology and eyes filled with regret. Rat turned, saw who it was, and in a moment when every single members of both units held their breath in preparation for the hopeful reunion stared at his old friend. Then he turned away, and everyone could see the hurt on Eel's face before it was swallowed with the same black expression as Rat.

Both then had a miserable, rage infused air about them. Where not the situation so upsetting, it would have been almost laughable how similar they were as they picked up their packs and _threw _it over their shoulders- _pushed _past the men, _slammed _the door when they finally got back to the barracks.

Wolf went to the sergeant and named the mission successful, claiming their extra pay with a smile that rapidly faltered on the discovery that the extra pay was by five pounds.

Tricky bastard.

Dinner was similarly awkward; the six men (Wolf, Eagle, Snake, Lion, Leopard, Monkey) not involved conspired to make the two speak to each-other, leaving two places next to each-other at their usual table. Rat came and sat down, then Eel came with a tray balanced on his arms, saw that the only space was next to Rat and announced he wasn't hungry to everyone listening- which was, for a change, the entire table, watching to see the consequences- and dumped his tray in the bin, before going out.

The six took the chance to interrogate Rat. "What is up with you and Eel?" Monkey asked, in his usual blatant manner. Rat scowled at his food and chose not to answer. "Seriously." Monkey persisted. "It's getting real annoying now-"

"It's not my fault!" Rat exclaimed, standing up so his chair screeched back on the floor. "He was the one who lied."

And with that cryptic statement, he also left, leaving the rest to marvel again at the two's similarities when they were angry and muse over Rat's comment.

0

It wasn't long before everything was revealed, and it came out disastrously.

Rat never made a conscious decision to inform his unit members and K Unit of Eel's... situation. It was slight jumps.

The first was when Leopard fell into the river on their weekend hike, and Rat instinctively turned to look at Eel to laugh with him, and saw that Eel was staring at his hands, and realised that he had truly lost a friend.

The second was when they were at the shooting range, and the instructor was commenting on Eel's slight build, saying it was maybe what made his instinctive shooting so good, and Rat was again reminded that Eel was a _child. _

The next was when Eel lied about something small. So small Rat couldn't even remember it, but all he could think about was that _Eel had lied, _and he _didn't know him any more, _and-

The last was when Rat was talking to his sister, who was also fifteen, and she was telling him about some bullies she had beaten up, and he was feeling proud about her progression with karate, but also really angry and _mad _at those bullies, and he really hated them- how dare they hurt her? She was only fifteen!

And he realised Eel was only fifteen.

Jeez, that realisation had hurt the most, because yeah. He was angry at Eel for lying, and he knew they weren't friends, and he knew Eel was a cold hearted bastard but he was a _kid. _A kid, with no one who cared about him, and a kid in the fucking _army. _And he, Rat, was the only one who knew, and he had to do something about it. And he wasn't, he was sulking around.

But... a year of friendship was hard to erase, so Rat didn't want to betray Eel so unfeelingly, or not just yet, anyway. So he decided not to tell the superiors.

Then he realised he was going to tell K Unit and the rest of D Unit, and so he did.

0

Jenna Renarla.

Jenna Renarla was a woman in SCORPIA. She had risen to the top through successful operations and then commands that had saved their organisation a number of times; particularly the order to put in a back up command group if, ever, the current one was demolished, which it then was by Alex Rider. It took a while to recover that back up but it was there, and after a few years SCORPIA returned to almost full strength.

She had an elusive accent and cold heart. Her looks were striking, but forgettable. She had a sharp mind and cared absolutely nothing for others. From the age of eighteen, her purpose had been clear; to rise to the top of the criminal underworld in the quickest time possible. Now at the age twenty nine, she had succeeded. Not only was she part of the commanding committee of SCORPIA, she also was in charge of a number of smaller terrorist organisations and drug dealings stretching across the world, as well as head of a number of human trafficking operations.

But no one was perfect. Jenna Renarla had a single weakness; a need to fall in love.

It wasn't even a want, a distant wish. She _needed _it. She needed it like she needed water, like she need oxygen. She needed to fall irrevocably in love with the most perfect man out there, her other half, her soul mate.

She had fulfilled this, partly, once. Anthony Sean Howel. Ash. A double agent, as ingenious as her, as dangerous as her, committed to the same goals. They'd shared a breathless night after meeting in a bar, and when seeing each other again at a SCORPIA meeting it was obvious that fate wanted them together.

Then Alex Rider had happened. Her love had died.

For the first time in twenty years, Jenna had cried. Broke down and _cried. _

Then, being the woman she was, she had entered the business again, with a new resolve, and an even stronger weakness; because now she had tasted love, she wanted it more than ever. Oh _god, _how she wanted it.

She'd sent in Michael to SAS, made him pretend he was Bear, ruined Alex's life a bit. Just a little.

She needed a little more revenge, of course, but she was over that silly boy now. She had... she had found _love _again.

Even the thought bought a smile to her face, a gleaming, dazzling smile. She touched her heart almost unconsciously as a picture of _his _face appeared in her mind. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, sharply cut cheekbones, tanned skin, a slim yet muscled build, actual taste in clothes- a sense of humour to counter her seriousness. An innocence to counter her knowledge. An intelligence to match her own; a light to her dark.

He was low in the rank of SCORPIA, extremely low, but she had bought him straight up; almost to level her own.

Only now did she realise this was a mistake.

Their organisation had moles; whose didn't?- and those moles had related to MI6, somehow, the astounding speed at which James (what a beautiful name) had swam through the ranks- everyone knew he would, of course, as skill such as his could not be uncounted, but the steepness of his rising had beckoned many raised eyebrows. MI6 had quickly became alarmed, and now he was on their assassination list.

She _had _to protect her love. She'd put him in a safe-house, where the only entry was through the sewers, and even that was connected to the house through a slim pipe that only a child could possibly crawl through. A certain worry about that thought jumped her heart every time it entered her mind, but she dismissed it, and went on with her business.

Sometime, she was going to resign. A couple of years maybe. James would, too. They'd have kids, they'd bring them up to be safe, to be normal; they would have everything, and her and James would be in love forever and nothing would come between them.

She clutched that wonderful image close to her heart with a smile on her face.

**I don't think I've actually ever said how grateful I am to all you guys for the support. Over 200 reviews? For just over 30k worth of words? If this is as long as I'm hoping it will be- so thank you. So much. You have no idea how much all of it means to me. This chapter was so hard to write, (a total of four complete drafts, about 4k words each, currently hovering in the Recycle Bin) but reading the reviews again and again (I know that's sad, but whatever) gave me so much inspiration it's actually unbelievable. **

**Uhm... the song quotes, now sitting atop each chapter, are there because I have all these wonderful lyrics going on and on in my head and nowhere to put them. So they're going in this fic. Review if I have lyrics wrong, and PM me to obsess over bands you like as well.**

**Oh, and I _might _be writing an Avengers/Harry Potter fic, starring Tony as a teen at Hogwarts, strunk with PTSD from his Afghanistan experience over the summer, his life slowly going down hill as friends abandon him for blond haired super boy, parents haunt him and guardian becomes abusive. Yes, I like writing angsty teen boys with crappy lives and messed up heads; gotta problem? So please read that if it sounds interesting and if I ever write it. Inspiration from Iron Man 3 movie, loved it!**

**Eleanorar Starrar. Firstly, loads of you (in reviews) were like; "OMG! I can't wait for the next one so I can find out who Eleanor is!" Eleanor_ar, _not Eleanor. YOU met her in chapter 8. She was bitching about how she hated British school, and the only guy she liked (Alex Rider) ignored her, and how she was getting SAS protection. Chapter 9, Eel is in the SAS unit assigned to protect Eleanorar Starrar. They meet, she's like "Alex!" because she knows him, and being a kinda obsessed stalker girl has memorized his face so will recognize him anywhere.**

**Remember her now?**

**Extra info; she's Canadian, has a rich mum, was sent to Alex's school in the short time she lived with her British dad, she's a spoilt bitch, you're meant to hate her. She looks sorta older for her age (fifteen). I said this in revised version of chapter nine, but this is for people who have followed before that and haven't seen the revised edition.**


	11. 1 E-L-E-V-E-N 1

_Right before my eyes  
I saw the whole world lose control_

_The whole world lost control, before my eyes, uh huh..._

_I fell through the floor_

_I couldn't take it any more_

_Can't take it any more, it breaks my mind, uh huh..._

**-Right Before My Eyes, by Cage the Elephant**

Alex rounded the corner of the barracks and started walking up to D Unit's.

The whole business with Rat was really tiring him. He knew that technically, he was in the wrong, but it seemed his former friend had never heard of the word 'forgiveness', because god knew Alex had tried to make amends.

Then he'd remember his cruel words and a pang of guilt would twist his stomach.

He didn't like guilt. Pain, he could handle. Loss, he'd experienced. Fear was almost a friend by now, as well as terror, and hatred was part of him. Agony was a festering being he'd had since fourteen, and insanity was like a lover. Yes, he hated all the feelings, and that spawned more hatred, and yes, he would never be able to cope with them, but to some extent he could look outside of himself and feel pity, sympathy. In the end, it wasn't his fault.

But guilt; guilt meant he'd done something wrong. Something he couldn't go back and change. Guilt didn't even hurt, it swelled, and grew, like a fat disease and it wasn't painful at all. Because the wrong hadn't been done to him, it had been done to someone else, by him. And when he looked outside of himself and saw the miserable creature full of guilt, with smoky trails of regret, all he felt was disgust.

He wanted to sort it out. Alex had been friends with Rat for only a year, but their bond was something strong, something unforgettable. The friendship he had was one he treasured above all; the one he'd wanted when joining SAS. He had bonds with the others, but now one had crumbled (and so easily, a few words, an exposed lie, and it was dust) he could see the fractures in the others, the painful fragility of each one.

Alex swung open the door of his barracks and stepped in, glaring at the floor. He closed it behind him and walked over to his bunk, only then realising K Unit was there as well as the other three of D Unit, and all were staring at him. "Hi, guys..." he said. They kept staring at him, eyes wide, though Rat's gaze was downcast and unreadable. "Would you quit staring at me like that?" he finally burst out, exasperated.

They slowly all turned away. Now none would meet his eyes. Leopard's fists were slightly clenched, and Wolf and Lion were white. Monkey looked shocked and Eagle searching, while Snake had a curious sort of expression on his face.

Alex connected the dots.

"Rat?" he said, aghast. "You told them?"

Except it wasn't really a question, it was a statement. And he couldn't even feel betrayed, because he was too full of guilt, and he realised Rat was perfectly within his rights to have told them and he should've expected it, but- no, there was no but, Rat had told them that he was fifteen and everything had lost control, right before his eyes.

"So it's true?" Leopard said, looking at him with- with anger, hurt. "You're fifteen?"

He didn't answer, and his silence was confirmation.

Alex looked at them all. "Are you going to tell anyone?" he asked flatly.

"Well, jeez, Eel. I mean we have to, right? You're just a kid, and it'll go against everything we believe in to put you in danger." Monkey said uncomfortably.

"Not to mention that you lied," Snake added "And- how did you get in anyway?"

"I changed the date on my birth certificate." he answered. He'd changed a bit more than that, but he had to make it seem like a smaller deal than it was, because- he just had to.

"Why?" asked Leopard. "Coupla years, you could've joined the army, then SAS- and it'd all be legal. You're good enough to definitely have a place. Why go to all that trouble? Why lie?"

Alex took a deep breath, and outside he saw the creature that was himself fill more with guilt for things it was about to say, and sink more into the gurgling black pit of deceit, and he felt so disgusted with himself he wanted- just for a second- to come clean, tell them everything. Put it all out there.

The foolish notion disappeared as common sense overtook him, and he lied.

"I- my dad, he was- he was abusing me. Like I said, when I was having that flashback. And I needed to get away from him, so I ran away. But- I didn't have any money or anything, so- so I tried to find a job-" he hated how his pauses as he quickly formulated the lies just added to them, making it as if he was recounting a painful experience. "-but no place would take me. So, I changed the date and- I got this guy, to forge papers saying I had previous military experience, and then I joined."

There was a silence as they took in his story. He saw their eyes fill with pity and understanding, the betrayal fading from their faces, and looking in on himself he hated himself so much.

How the hell could he do this?

Rat stood up. "Cut the crap, Eel." he said stiffly. Alex stared at him in shock. "I've been your friend long enough to know that was utter bullshit. If you don't want to tell the truth, don't. But don't lie about it. And don't look so fucking _smug. _Yeah, I get that you don't care that we trust you- or used to- and you don't care about anyone but yourself, but for god's sake, stop fucking _lying!"_

Then the creature Alex was looking in on developed grotesque mutations, painful wounds seemingly welling up from inside his skin and cutting out, cutting all the shining bonds that he called _friendship _as they tore out of him.

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. Make it stop!

"Tell us where it is!" the man with a black cowl over his head growled. Alex pulled against the rope binding him to the chair frantically.

"No! Stop! I don't know anything, I swear!"

Then the knife, the sharp gleaming red hot knife was just _laying _against his skin, laying there on his stomach and burning- he was burning! It was burning him! "Stop, please! I'll tell you, just-" he could smell the skin crisping, the flesh cooking, ow for fuck's sake _stop it! _

Blessed ice cold water splashed over his stomach instead of the knife. "Oh god, thank you, thank you-" he gasped.

"Tell me. Where is it?"

"I don't know what you're even talking about!" he screamed. "They didn't tell me anything! Let me go!"

The ice water was in a bucket, in front of him. The man grasped his chin and pulled him into the bucket, pushing down the back of his head-

"He's having a flashback." Lion said. They looked at the screaming man- boy. Alex stared at them.

A flashback? It wasn't real?

It wasn't real?

The water, it was black it was covering his face he _couldn't breath _his mouth opened- air, he needed air, gasped in- and water flooded his mouth, swept down his throat, choked him-

He grasped the edge of the wooden floor of the barracks (how did he get there?), digging his fingers in. It wasn't real. It just had to happen now, didn't it? Someone was touching his shoulder. "Eel." they said, their voice blurred and distant. "Eel. It's okay. You're safe." He clutched onto the hand. He was safe. He was safe-

A hand pulled him up by his hair, cruelly exposing him to a biting air. He choked out the word, "Please," because that was all he could say, all he could comprehend, and he was still choking-

"Eel. Come on, you can do it. Just take deep breaths, in, and out. In, and out." he listened to the voice, clutched the hand. He had air. He wasn't choking. Come on, in, and out. Deep breaths. He could do it. "That's good, Eel. Very good. Now, remember, it isn't real. Whatever you're seeing, it isn't real. You're here, in the barracks, with D Unit and K Unit and you're safe, okay?"

Okay, he was safe.

"_PLEASE!" _And the knife again, burning a triangle-

And he was back.

He sat up, gasping, letting go of the hand, and looked to see it's owner; Rat.

Oh. Rat.

But the knife, on his stomach-

He scrabbled at his shirt, he had to check it wasn't real. He needed that confirmation, he just needed to see his stomach and see the knife gone, see that it wasn't there. He lifted his shirt and stared at the five black triangles burnt into his skin, crossed with a deep, knotted scar that had come later. He'd raised his shirt enough that he could see the edge of the puckered bullet wound from that assassination attempt, back in one of the first few missions, and there were other wounds but it awakened to many memories so he let the shirt drop. The knife wasn't there, _it wasn't there, _he was there, he was safe.

"Thanks." he told Rat, almost shyly. "For- for helping me, I mean." And then he remembered their discussion; "I'm sorry for lying. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. I do care."

"It's fine, kid." Rat said in a low, nearly breathless voice. Alex didn't even notice the 'kid' because Rat's eyes were full of- he couldn't quite recognise it, but the other's eyes were full of it too, and they were staring at his-

At his-

At his stomach. Which he'd just showed them.

Right.

"Uh, I-"

"You lied about the abusive dad thing, didn't you? Rat was right." Lion said, his voice full of please-deny-it-just-deny-it.

"Yeah." Alex said softly.

Why why why had he showed them? Why did he even want to look at it himself? He didn't need confirmation, he just-

"Right." Lion sighed, a deep sigh. "Ok. You lied. About everything. I don't- I don't even want to hear what you have to say about _that._"

"I-"

"Don't, Eel." Snake said.

Okay.

Okay.

He gazed around at them, and they all met his eyes with angry looks, sorrowful, betrayed. Everyone apart from Rat, who jutted his chin towards the door and mouthed 'talk later'.

So his friendship with Rat was back. At the cost of everyone else he'd come to value, those bonds crumbling into dust, tiny grey particles of damning dust that keened as they flew away in the screaming wind.

He stood up, he left.

When Sabina's family had announced they were leaving him, he'd walked. Just walked.

And he walked now.

Just like with the Pleasure's, he wanted to cry, but forced himself not to. He strode through the woods. Not stomping or raging or running, he strode, as if it was okay and everything was okay and he was fine even though it fucking _wasn't. _And everything was blurred. Everything he saw carried a tinted edge that blurred it, so he was stumbling and clutching and grasping and the world was spinning and sometimes little details would poke out at him, like a leaf or a face in the distance or a cloud in the sky and it'd be like a punch and he'd _gasp, _draw breath in, deep breaths and walk on.

And then, just like with the Pleasure's, when he sank down somewhere and let himself cry, no tears came.

He felt hollow and empty and he didn't even want to know how he felt.

Then- then-

Then he was watching and the car, the car it was _exploding, _and oh god, he could see her face, her aghast face framed with that vibrant red hair and all he could do was _watch- _

He was crumbling. He was falling to pieces. He'd just had a fucking flashback, and now here was another one.

"Jack-" he mouthed, silently, and he was frozen, because there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could ever do, ever, and it was _all his fault _and-

Something was wrong with him. He couldn't go on like this. The flashbacks, the nightmares, them knowing his secrets, the constant stress; it was all going to catch up with him soon, and Alex (except, except he _wasn't _Alex) didn't know if he was gonna survive it this time round.

The moment she died seemed to be frozen. A single crystallised moment, frozen and floating and almost peaceful. Then it all fast forwarded and she was _dead. _

He came out of the flashback and lay gasping on the forest floor, then fell asleep.

0

Jenna sipped a glass of wine, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid sliding down her throat. She put down the elegant crystal glass, looking across the candle lit table to her lover.

This was one of the rare moments they could spend together, in a life getting increasingly busy. He called her up on her birthday and told her to come to him, then James had presented her with a beautiful ivory mask, and he had slotted a midnight blue one on his own face, and he'd informed her with a husky voice and hidden smile that they were going to a masked ball to celebrate her birthday. The romantic action had warmed her heart so she'd cancelled a meeting about the best way to bomb a school in Kenya, since a customer didn't want the country educated, and agreed (though if she hadn't, he would've made her) and now they were sipping wine in a hall and watching masked dancers whirl around on the dancing floor to a fast jazz.

She met James' sweet, brilliant blue eyes and knew he was smiling under the mask. She smiled as well, and a shiver went up her as if they were sharing a secret. He blinked once then leant across to her, lifting her mask quickly with nimble hands and pressing calloused, warm lips to hers. They stayed like that for a moment, her arms around his neck and one of his holding up her mask and the other on her waist. In that beautiful second she felt completely at peace. She was full of love, surrounded by love, sending love, receiving love. Stars were in her eyes and he was at her lips, and she loved him so much it hurt and she was happy.

He leant back and her mask slipped back down. She met his eyes again and smiled again and then they kissed again, and this time he drew her up from the table and pressed her against the wall, and threw the mask next to her and took his own off and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. Then she was breathless and blushing like a school girl and he lifted her up and kissed her again, and pressed against her with an almost bruising force, and she wrapped her legs around him tight and he carried her into the car waiting outside and they drove back to the safe house. When they were inside he shut the door quietly behind him, and everything was dark and she was standing in the middle of the room, and he crept up behind her and loosed the back of her dress. As it fell it made a swooshing sound, then his hands were on her and his lips were on her and she was taking off his suit, his trousers, his shirt, and everything was hot and fumbling and perfect.

She was so happy she didn't notice the man that lurked behind them at the ball. She didn't notice his eyes brighten in recognition as her mask slipped down, as James' mask slipped off. She didn't notice him following silently behind in the car, swooping around the streets, radioing all the time to his employees. She didn't notice him watch them go into the safe house, or note down the address and drive away.

Until it was too late would she realise that MI6 now knew of her lover's home, and was working to get in and tick off another on their assassination list.

But by then it would be too late, and the only thing she could do was get revenge.

0

Mrs Jones thinned her lips as she looked over the latest statistic reports. Things were mainly okay since she had taken over from Blunt, but they weren't getting any better, and if she wanted a pay rise that's what needed to happen.

She looked up at the knock on her door. "Come in." she called. Mr Donaldson, her deputy head, stepped in and sank into the chair in front of her. She smiled. "Mint?" she asked, tipping the packet towards him.

"No thanks." he answered. She squeezed one out for herself, and popped it in her mouth, savouring the minty sweetness that spread through her taste buds.

"So." she said. "You needed to speak to me?"

"Yes." Mr Donaldson said. "As you know, the mission we sent Arnold and Hettie on three days ago was unsuccessful. They've managed to send a help signal, meaning they've been caught, which was also made broadcast their signal, so we know roughly where they are. We're sending in more MI6 agents to rescue them but I think they also need some... brute force, shall we say."

"So you need permission to borrow one of the specialized branches of the army."

"Yes."

"Granted. I suggest the SAS; they are most suited for situations like these. And I recommend you ask for K Unit. They are the four best men, in my opinion, in the whole branch. One of their former members was actually recruited for MI6. And they've partnered all the units now in some new scheme, so you'll have double the manpower."

"Thanks for the advice." Mr Donaldson grinned, standing up and pushing his chair back. "Until next time, Mrs Jones."

"Goodbye." she said, inclining her head and watching him leave the office.

She looked back at the statistics reports and scowled.

When Alex woke up, the first thing that he noticed was a beetle crawling over his face.

He was mildly confused about why a beetle was on his face so didn't move and thought about that problem.

Then the beetle jumped off onto a twig beside him, and then he was wondering why there was a twig next to him, and why there was a sea of twigs and dirt and dead leaves and above a sea of slender branches and patches of blue and slim green shoots. He summarized, eventually, that he was in a forest.

The next question was obvious; why was he in a forest?

Well, he had been asleep. And there weren't any restraints on his body, and all he could feel was twinges of old injuries so he must have gone there voluntarily.

Why?

He sat up, brushed a hand over his eyes, and realised he wasn't kidding anyone. He sighed, stood up, swayed, straightened, and walked out of the forest.

The sky was blue so either he'd slept into the night and back into the next morning, or it was today- the same day he'd fallen asleep, except if it was the first option then it wouldn't be today, or his definition of today as the day he'd fallen asleep would be wrong, and-

Who was he kidding? Oh yeah, himself. Because he was crazy.

Right.

He sighed again, tried not to distract himself and walked into the canteen. Everyone was having dinner- the usual grey sludge- and everyone had not yet noticed him. Alex strode over to the table where D Unit and K Unit were, and sat down in a chair next to Rat.

They stilled.

Then continued eating.

He sighed for maybe the seventeenth time since he'd woken up and left the table.

0

The next day started with everyone ignoring him. No one would speak to him, or meet his eyes, and if he talked to them they pretended they hadn't heard, unless it was in front of someone else in which case they would respond with monosyllabic grunts. Which somehow made it worse.

Rat had disappeared until after breakfast. He pulled Alex aside for a second. "Hi," Alex greeted hesitantly. "Still angry with me?"

"...maybe. Not really."

"Oh." Alex said. "That's good."

"Hey, Eel?"

"Mm hm?"

"Promise not to lie to me ever again."

"I promise not to lie to you ever again unlessIreallyneedto."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Say it again."

"I promise not to lie to you ever again u-" Rat clapped a hand on his mouth and Alex glared.

"Okay. Good," Rat took a deep breath. "Now tell me what that stuff on your stomach is."

"Stuff?"

"Scars. Burns. That... bullet wound?"

"Yep."

"Yeah, that. I'd like to know how you got them at fifteen!"

"Rat..."

"Eel..." Rat warned.

"You know I said I wouldn't lie?"

"Yes."

"Well then I can't tell you."

Rat sighed. "Thought as much. You know I'm gonna find out sometime anyway?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then."

And that was that, and Alex's life was still crap, but at least he had a friend.

**And I am back. Hello, dear readers. Wifi has been granted to me after weeks of torture; and not any old wifi. FibreOptic. Which apparently consists of some mirrors in pipes sending light and in the light is internet or broadband or whatever, and it's a whole complicated explanation I didn't get the first time, or the second, or the third, and at the fourth I gave up. But anyway. Any of you guys got that?**

**Um, anyway. The band who sings the song on top of this tower. They are amazing. So wonderfully perfect I think I might cry when I listen to their songs. Cage the Elephant. Right now, I am a massive fan. Ahem. OK.**

**Oh, and Youtube comedy week? Anyone watching? Thoughts? Not as good as I expected, but still okay. **

**Things in this story will become along rather faster now, if they haven't already; look forwards to plot twists, numerous plot holes, deaths, lives, introductions, corpses. Yuh. **

**Well... next chapter coming soon, please review, and happy half term holiday to everyone who has it! **


	12. Dozen Times- 12

_Well, these days I'm fine - No these days I tend to lie  
I'll take the West train, just by the side of Amsterdam  
Just by my left brain, just by the side of the tin man _

**-Amsterdam, by Imagine Dragons**

Mr Donaldson picked up the phone to the SAS sergeant. "Hello." he greeted pleasantly.

"I assume this is MI6." the weary voice came back.

Mr Donaldson sat up slightly. "You would assume correctly. And you know what I am going to ask, correct?"

"Yup. You got this operation which you need some 'brute force' for, so you want a couple of my men. Seeing as you're the deputy of Mrs Jones, I'm guessing she's recommended the best unit we have; K Unit, so you're gonna ask for them. And with our new partner scheme, you want D Unit as well, who are their partners."

His eyebrows raised slightly at the acuteness of the sergeant's statements. "You're right. On all counts. May I ask how you know?"

"I've had enough requests of the like to know what's coming. Damn it, you can have them. When and where?"

"Tomorrow, actually. A few of our men will come round to pick them up at 3PM. I must inform you that this mission is classed high risk and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll talk to them about it. They can't refuse; literally, it's in their contracts. Bye, then."

The sergeant slammed the phone down. Mr Donaldson looked at it with a slightly bemused expression, shrugged and went off to find some men on the MI6 side to join the mission to rescue their lost MI6 agents.

He skimmed over the mission briefings. Arnold and Hettie, their two top agents of the year (it had to be of the year, for any longer and they'd be looking at the records of the dead- life expectancy of agents that good was extremely low) had gone undercover in the terrorist organisation plainly named UHUK, standing for United Haters of the United Kingdom, who had moles in most of the

British defense and offense services; MI6, MI5, SAS, RAF, etc. The moles leaked information about operations back to UHUK so they could ruin them. It seemed Arnold and Hettie had been found out, and had sent an alert which gave out their GPS signal for MI6 to trace and rescue them; they'd determined the location to be a lonely house in the middle of the countryside. It was swarming with UHUK agents, so they needed both MI6 intelligence and SAS force to take the house and rescue their agents.

He knew a couple of agents who could help. James Urey, Annmarie Stone, Zachary Leeds. Yes, they'd be most suited for the job.

He picked up the phone.

0

K Unit and D Unit were at the shooting range, everyone but Rat still studiously ignoring Eel. Alex didn't even bother with a strained smile, since it was obvious to any onlookers that they didn't like him. Rat maintained a neutral distance from the opposite sides, exchanging friendly words to each of them.

Panther of S Unit came running up to Wolf. "Sergeant wants you," the young man informed him, looking nervously at the gun in Wolf's hands. "For a mission. Uh, in his office."

"Right." Wolf nodded gruffly. He set the gun down, raised a hand in farewell to his team mates and jogged to the sergeant's office.

"Wolf." the sergeant began. "You will be pleased to hear that you are going on another mission."

Wolf raised his eyebrows. "I'm pleased?"

"Yes. High risk, high pay, lots of action, and you can get all the flashy guns out. High percentage of dying."

"Uh...definitely good news."

"Yup. You're leaving tomorrow, at 0800. The mission will have two units, K Unit and D Unit, as well as some MI6 agents. You will be going to a facility somewhere which MI6 will brief you on. I've gathered that the main objects of the mission are simply to kill anyone you see who is not SAS or MI6, and rescue the MI6 agents who are held there. It is estimated to take around seven hours to complete the mission; MI6 have already scanned the area and secured best entrance and exit points. I trust you will complete this mission to the best of your ability and make sure everyone is as safe as possible. You are dismissed."

"Uh..."

"Dis. Mis. Sed. Means you can go."

"But-"

"Go!"

Wolf went. A bit confused, but used to the sergeant's weird mood swings, and with a dread that had everything to do with a certain member named Eel.

1 1 z 1 z

Alex knew he needed to go.

He'd thought it through, many times- that was an understatement. Every waking thought was focused on finding a solution, finding a way out that did not consist of cutting all the ties he'd made and starting again.

Nothing came.

It was obvious that the only thing he could do was run. They were going to reveal him to superiors; he would get found out; the press would find out, and so would MI6. Then he'd be back in the-

In the-

Alex choked, squeezed his eyes tight, opened them wide and banished all memories.

So. He needed to run, sometime. The question was- when?

Wolf walked into the barracks, Snake, Eagle and Monkey following behind him. "Ok, everyone listen up." he announced. Members of both units turned to the man, as Monkey shut the door behind him and Snake and Eagle sat down on the unoccupied bunks. "We have a mission. Tomorrow, at 0800. Rescuing some people held hostage in a camp."

Nods all around.

"I think the real issue here, though, is," Wolf took a deep breath, turned to Eel, and all heads swung round to stare at him. Alex flinched slightly. "Eel."

Alex didn't say anything, just pressed his lips together tightly.

"We're going to tell everyone the truth. We agreed that. But- when? Is he coming on the mission with us?"

"Yeah." Monkey said quietly. "Just one more mission, then you can go back to school or whatever. You want to, Eel?"

He could see agreement in everyone else's faces. One more mission. One more- then he'd run. Outside of the barracks, he'd run.

It was the perfect plan.

"Kay." he agreed. "I- yeah. Sounds good."

There was a slightly hesitant pause as he avoided everyone's eyes and hoped like hell that it would sort itself out.

Somehow.

1 1 z 1 z

0730 the next morning.

Alex looked at the backpack Wolf had made them pack.

Supplies of one can of food (for emergencies) a small first aid kit, three bottles of water, a roll of ammunition and a gun.

He took them out and laid them on the bunk. Then, in the space left, he stuck a wad of notes collected over the year and just withdrawn from the bank; documents like a passport, birth certificate, driving license; a change of clothes; a knife, more ammunition, a vial of poison, a pen knife, a small handgun, a ripped out page from somewhere with numbers scrawled on the back; for MI6, for taxis, for Tom, for the Pleasure's, for the meager barely known friends he'd made in America, for CIA, for ASIS. And- a couple, at the bottom, for Rat and Monkey and Eagle and Snake and Wolf and Lion and Leopard. Not that they knew he had them, but you never knew.

He put the supplies Wolf had given him on top and zipped it up. A sudden pang of nostalgia struck him, for the home he'd always wanted, the place he'd always thought he could belong, the family that was torn away time and time again and he _would never learn. _

He swung it onto his back and stared at the clock.

0745

A black car pulled outside of Brecon Beacons.

A black car. Tom would've laughed. Tom had pushed him away in the end, and spat that he _hated _Alex, and _never to speak _to him again- but he still would've laughed. In the old days.

Wolf stood up and everyone followed, patting the guns at their hips and the body armor beneath their uniforms for reassurance. A scattering of friends had come to see them off- no one knew who would come back from what missions, but no one wanted to say goodbye.

The backpacks went in the boot and the eight men piled in. Sitting in front was two figures with dark suits and cold eyes who Alex realized- with a stiffening off his heart- were MI6.

They couldn't-

It didn't matter, he realised. The people in the front didn't know him, and they'd be briefing them. After the mission (he'd escape in the chaos, he _would) _they might go back to the head quarters, and see some MI6 that he might know, or who might know him- but he'd be _gone _then.

He'd be out there, cutting all ties, making a new life, a new start. Except, this time he'd be more careful- careful to keep away from anything that could _bind _him, _capture _him, like these people had, because then they could _hurt _him, and that- and he was tired, so tired of being hurt. There was just- so much pain inside him he couldn't even _think _any more.

"Eel." Rat nudged him. Alex turned to look at his friend, felt a pang, swallowed the knot in his throat.

"Yeah?"

"What've you got in your pack? It looked like you had way more stuff than us."

When the hell did Rat become so observant?

"Did it?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

When had conversations become so stiflingly stilted?

"Eel?"

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

That made him think for a moment. Stiffen from a languidly slouching position and think.

Was he okay?

"I'm fine." he lied.

The rest of the ride was in silence.

They got out of the car somewhere in the streets of London- evident only by the faint silhouette of the London Eye somewhere in the mist. The two MI6 agents briefed them; kill everyone in the building. Grab any key you find. Meet at the cells which will be in the basement, in which the prisoners will be held (_reliable informants have provided the information_), free the prisoners, get the hell out of there.

_Kill everyone in the building. _

It didn't disturb him.

That fact scared him.

He started to wonder where along the line he had lost his humanity, but that internal monologue had been replayed so many times he was almost bored by it- but almost, because _bored _wasn't the word, it was...weary. Resigned.

Escape. Had to escape, somewhere.

He'd find some way to split up from the others- then, then? Find an exit, get out.

Run away.

_Run away, as fast as you can, can't catch me, I'm a- and all the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn't put him back together again- rain rain go away, never show your face again- fell down the hill and broke his crown- we all fall down._

We all fall down.

"Okay!" said the MI6 man. "Go through the front, do your stuff; we'll get in through the back. Good luck!"

The two MI6 agents disappeared with a smooth, lithe stride that Alex used to have.

Wolf took a deep breath.

Then he charged towards the door, seven men following behind him, guns pointed in every direction and the safety off on each one.

Follow procedure; "SAS! Open up! If you do not comply we will not hesitate to use force!"

Then they shot the lock and stampeded into the corridor, taking in any threats instantly in a hyper awareness that had forced itself upon them in battle.

There were none.

The corridor was a small, white washed one, with one door at the far end and an empty coat rack near the door. They barely fit into it, and Snake, the tallest out of them all, had to hunch slightly to avoid the low ceiling.

Alex looked around warily. The second the other side appeared, he'd run out this way.

He _wasn't _a coward, he was just-

They inched towards the door. Lion kicked it down, holding his gun out. They filed into the room; a large, spacious area, with no furniture and rust blood stains up the left wall. And three men, shooting.

Each missed; their aim too unwieldy to hit anything but the floor. The SAS men formed quickly into a standard formation and fulfilled their orders, unleashing a deadly spray of bullets that hit the men and crumpled them like so many paper dolls, ridden with holes from the stabbing of an angry child.

Then adrenaline truly devoured them. Everything happened in a haze, moving fast one second and slow the next, simultaneously, excruciatingly drawn out.

BANG!

Another man crumpled.

Stormed into the next room- two doors- "D Unit, right door. K Unit, left."

(First step to separation.)

Next room- BANG! BANG! BANG! "I'm out of ammo!" Rat shouted, voice hoarse, eyes bright. Eel dug in his backpack and tossed him a pack of bullets. Rat opened up the gun, slid them in; "Come on!" Lion yelled.

Running.

Down the steps- one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven- bursting into the basement. There, like the MI6 agents said, two cells. Three filthy figures chained by the wrists to the walls and sleeping, trapped inside.

K Unit followed in after them. "Any injuries?" Wolf asked, breathless, stern.

"Negative." Lion replied tersely. Wolf nodded.

The two MI6 agents who had accompanied them burst in. They took in the situation, strode over to the cells and shot the lock off in one quick action. Another shot, at the chains; they clattered down. The SAS men filed in without needing to be asked, lifting up the unconscious figures, carrying them out.

They escaped quickly from the house. The fresh corpses scared everyone, with the rolling, blank eyes and lolling mouths, and the sudden sounds in the house as if the ghosts, newly dead, were trying to wreak revenge. Alex stared round at everyone as they stood outside the house and took great lungs of dirty air, smiling faintly at each-other, alight with post-battle excitement.

A few minutes, the MI6 agents informed them, then a car would be here to take them to headquarters and debrief. Did they know that the MI6 headquarters were in a bank? Yes, a bank. Ludicrous, like something out of a spy movie, or some spy book for teens-

Oh, fuck.

Alex remembered.

He hadn't run.

Why the _fuck _hadn't he run?

For fuck's sake everything was fucking ruined, fuck it _all- _

Now, now to the MI6 building, it was-

He was going to-

"Hey, mate." one of the MI6 agents said, the man, tapping him lightly on the shoulder, a concerned expression on his face. "You okay? You didn't get hurt or anything, right?"

Right?

Right. He wanted to answer, but a wetness from his shoulder wouldn't let him.

He looked over to his shoulder, touched the redness softly. Disbelievingly.

The pain hadn't come, not yet, but he could feel it lurking; a thousand black needles, clicking in the dark, waiting to pounce.

"Oh, God, Eel-" Rat was saying, staring at the hole in his shoulder.

Alex raised a shaky hand, clasped it.

He needed to _run_...

He had to-

_Run..._

He lurched forwards a step, into Wolf, who turned to see who it was.

Then he collapsed.

It would've been nice if everything blacked out, if he knew no more, if the world stopped and he awoke in a hospital bed, bandaged and clean with everything sorted out neatly and all loose ends tied, like the epilogue in a book. But instead everything was blurred and jolting, and suddenly he was in a car and- and, in front of a building, and it looked familiar?

It looked so familiar, and he felt a faint feeling of dread, of painful, terrible dread.

But one of the black needles of pain had gotten through and was jabbing everywhere it could reach and he was _whimpering _in pain, turning his face into someone's chest like a _child, _and he was being carried inside what looked suspiciously like a bank-

But wasn't-

And a woman was striding past, smelling of peppermint, ignoring the sudden chaos and cries for medic and going into an office he knew as the head's office-

_Head of what?_

-and coming straight out again, striding over to him and saying "Alex?"

Alex? He wondered faintly, and wondered again why he hadn't run, and then the black finally over took him and he gasped in relief.

**Ending on 3100 words exactly.**

**And a sort-of cliffhanger.**

**Sorry for the wait, just had things to do and all the usual end of year exams (HATE THEM) but of course, soon is the glorious summer holidays, a beautiful stretch of time without school. I know some of you guys have broken up already, in other countries and such, but I have around half a term to go before that wonderful date.**

**Anyone in UK started summer holidays yet? Anyone outside UK?**

**Next update on the 4th July. For reasons I will explain in the chapter.**


	13. Unlucky 13

_Don't speak to me about freedom,  
Don't speak to me about being free,  
Don't speak to me about freedom,  
Don't speak to me it's just a fucking lie!_

_-_**Manipulation, by Six Feet Under**

**I chose the 4th July for next chapter updating date because 1) I really needed to set myself a deadline, and that seemed like a nice, long way away, 2) I believe today is very special for Americans. And most of you are American (or so traffic charts tell me. On that note, anyone know the difference between views and visitors?). Because, of course... it's Captain _America's _birthday. XD And 3) it is my dear friend's Automber birthday. Happy birthday Automber! **

**So. Um. That woman, smelling of peppermint, as so many of you had guessed, was...**

"Mrs Jones." the woman in a dark suit presented herself, extending her hand smartly. Wolf shook it slightly hesitantly. "I presume you are the SAS, K Unit and D Unit?"

"Yup." answered Rat. "And did you call Eel... Alex?"

"I was wondering that myself." Wolf admitted. "So many people are popping up these days who seem to know our friend."

"Eel." Mrs Jones repeated. She looked down at the unconscious face of Alex on a stretcher, with his new black hair and tanned skin. "Seems he's been keeping secrets from a lot of people. At fifteen, as well."

"You know?" Lion said, shocked.

"Of course." she replied, a small amusement in her voice. "Could we proceed to my office and get things properly straightened out while Alex is taken care of?"

Glances were exchanged, concern fought with curiosity, curiosity won and they proceeded to Mrs Jones' office.

An attend dragged up chairs for the men to sit on, in front of a prim, rosewood desk, behind of which Mrs Jones sat on a twisty chair (that Rat hadn't seen for ages and _really _wanted a go on) with a tin of peppermint in her hand. She twisted the lid off and poked at the white capsules as if expecting them to change suddenly, then picked one and after a slight hesitation popped one in her mouth and started to chew. A haze came over her eyes and the men were uncomfortably reminded of an addict taking a shot.

She offered it round. Everyone declined. There was the distinct feeling that if you took one, bad things would happen, made even more vivid by the reluctance in which she held the tin before them; again reminding them of an addict, something that didn't fit well with their perception of what an MI6 boss should be, which she seemed to be.

"Firstly," she began. "May I congratulate you on your excellent job rescuing my agents. One minor casualty, perfect. I commend you."

They were about to accept the glowing praise but it was said in such a stilted way they weren't sure if it was sarcastic or merely forced.

"Next. The boy you know of as Eel. I presume you know his age?"

"Yeah, that he's fifteen. And that he had flashbacks. Nothing else."

"Flashbacks? He still has them? That's worrying." she muttered the last statement to herself at their nods of confirmation, chewing her lip worriedly. She looked up. "I suppose it doesn't really matter. Okay, that's all you know. Well, I will fill you in."

"The truth is that three of you in here know him, from last year, in fact."

Blank faces all around.

"Wolf, Snake, and Eagle. Remember a Cub?"

"CUB?"

"Yes. Eel and Cub are the same people."

Wolf looked almost painfully confused. "But- he told me they were cousins!"

"You never told us that!"

Wolf ignored them.

"Evidently not." Mrs Jones said. "You should know by now that everything Alex- or Eel, if you prefer- has said to you is most likely a lie. You shouldn't blame him; it was how he was trained."

"Trained?"

"Yes. From the age of fourteen, Eel has, in fact, been working for us. He went on a number of successful missions before his mental state broke down severely and we were forced to send him to a mental institute. He escaped, and evidently joined the SAS, under a fake identity."

"A mental institute?"

"Indeed. After a particularly scarring mission in which he was held captive by a group which used several mental torture techniques on him, he broke down, as I said; suffering from frequent attacks, which he called 'flashbacks', apparently making him think he was back in past traumatic events and acting accordingly, making him a danger to himself and others. We had to restrain him and put him in solitude many times, and despite the high security he managed to escape and obviously somehow get fake documents."

"One thing I don't get," Rat interrupted, ignoring the details Mrs Jones had just shared because dammit_, _Eel was _not _insane. "Is why you were employing a minor. Isn't that illegal? And how heartless do you have to be if it makes a kid like that, anyway?"

"Classified." Mrs Jones dismissed. Everyone in the room made a move to protest. "Do not try anything. I am, authority wise, nearly on par with the prime minister; I can do anything, anything at all. And yes, that is a threat. Now I'd like to tell me exactly what you know about Eel."

"That's it." Monkey said defiantly, his instinctive rebellious nature coming out (which had nearly gotten him kicked out of the various military branches he had been in, and had, on numerous occasions, expelled him from approximately twelve secondary schools). "That's all we know, and even if we did know anything else we wouldn't snitch of one of us, especially to a cold bit-"

"He's not one of you." Mrs Jones interrupted smoothly. "He is a fifteen year old employee of MI6. He is a school boy mental institute escapee. Nothing that comes out of his mouth is the truth, or at the most only half of it. He is one of the most wanted people in the world, by terrorist groups; he's been on the run from Europe special forces for more than a year. He is most definitely not _one of you."_

A chair scraped as Leopard stood up, mouth open. Everyone turned to look at him but as they did, the door opened.

"Mrs Jones?" a young man with a clipboard in his hand said. "You said to inform you. A," he consulted the said clipboard, squinting at it as he tried to discern some information. "An Alex Rider has woken up, and is in room M45. He is alone, as per instructions. The doctors said he is in stable condition as the bullet only clipped him, missing vital arteries and hitting only the flesh; he is on painkillers for now, but it is not a major injury by any means."

"Thank you." Mrs Jones said smoothly, standing up, as expressions of relief appeared on the men's faces at hearing Eel's condition. "Please escort these men outside, and order a taxi to Brecon Beacons for them. And have them sign the OSA before they leave, please."

She left the room.

1 1 z 1 z

"MI6 spy?" Rat spluttered, aghast, once they were safely in the barracks. They'd left with not a small amount of fuss and eventually Mrs Jones herself had come back and promised (though they didn't hold her promises in much regard) that Eel was in the best of care possible (they still couldn't get to calling him 'Alex') and they'd signed the forms, and suffered the long ride back in a sombre silence, each bursting to discuss but unable to with the taxi driver there.

"Guess it explains the scars on his chest." Lion said.

"And his skill with a gun. Ever since we found out his age, I've been wondering who taught him exactly _how _to use a gun." said Leopard.

"Wolf." Snake said, turning to Wolf suddenly. "how comes you never told us Eel said Cub was his cousin?"

Everyone turned to look at Wolf, who was suddenly uncomfortable, nodding in agreement. "He asked me not to." Wolf said, faintly apologetic. "Said MI6 was after Cub but he was innocent, so Eel wanted to protect his family... guess the first part's true, at least."

"But you didn't trust us?" Monkey asked, sounding hurt.

"I was gonna, but he said not to tell anyone, and I guess I just forgot about it."

"Yeah. Whatever. I still can't believe he worked for MI6!"

"And didn't tell us!" added Eagle.

"And went to a mental institute!" said Rat.

"Huh. Guess the flashbacks were actually a medical condition."

"Yeah... I most definitely forgive the kid for his age thing, 'specially after what that bitch said he's been through." Lion declared, anger on his face.

"Well, forgiving him isn't really a question." pointed out Rat. "The question is what's gonna happen to him now, and how we can help."

1 1 z 1 z

Her phone was ringing.

With a sigh, Jenna spun on her chair and rummaged inside her jacket, hanging up on the wall, finding her buzzing phone and pressing it against her ear. "Hello?"

"Jenna? You said to inform you if anything has happened to the operative."

Yes, she remembered; this was one of the agents she had posted around James' safe-house, just in case anything happened to him.

Terror filled her as she took in the implications of his words. "James? Oh my god, what's happened to him?"

Already she was standing up, swinging on her jacket, striding briskly out of her office, into the lift, watching the doors close impatiently.

"Not anything big." her agent assured her. "We just heard a shout, as if he'd hurt himself, and a crash, then silence. It's likely he dropped something, but we weren't sure."

Her panic dissipated, but the lift was already dinging open and she wanted just to _check _if he was okay, and besides, it had been _so long _since she'd seen him- "Thank you." she said, closing the phone.

Jenna got out of the building, unlocked her car, closed the door, drove onto the road and through the winding way to James' safe-house. She applied a little lipstick on the way, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks at the thought of seeing her love again- just like a school girl, she thought, and that didn't make her in the least ashamed.

She knocked on the door. A clattering was heard, a patter of feet, then; "Who is it?"

"Jenna." she replied, smiling as the door opened, leaning forwards to kiss him lightly.

"This is a surprise." he joked, opening the door wider for her to step in, and locking it behind her. "So what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to?"

"There has to be a reason?" she teased, hanging her jacket on the side and following him into the kitchen.

"Of course not." he smiled, drawing up a chair for her and sitting down himself. "It's just...unlike you, I guess."

"Well- I was checking up on you. My agents said they heard a crash. Are you okay?"

Then she realised what she'd said and there was a moment of deathly silence.

Then;

"What?" he said, scraping the chair back to stand up, towering over her with hurt and rage in his eyes. "You- you're spying on me?"

"I-"

"You have _agents _checking me? What, scared I'm gonna run away? Or betray you?"

"No- you don't understand, they were for protection-"

"Oh, I'm just your little pet. Right? Can't be left on my own, oh no, I might be a big boy but Jenna looks after her _toys, _doesn't she?"

"James-"

He stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

She sat for a shaky second, rubbing a weary hand across her face. How had it all gone wrong? How could she put it right?

She picked up her phone and dialed her agent. "Hello?"

"Ma'am, is everything okay?"

"Yes. Fine. So fine, in fact, I want you to call off everyone in your team, and you and everyone else to leave this house and never come back."

"I'm not sure I understand-"

"I want you to leave. I'll have a job for you from Scorpia tomorrow; take your men, go rest up, and do not come back to this house. I trust you will not disclose the location?"

"Of course. But I must insist that-"

"You will insist nothing. Go. Now."

She slammed the phone shut and slid it into her pocket, her cold, business like facade melting instantly as she sat forwards and put her head in her hands, allowing herself a moment of despair.

Jenna heard the door open behind her and a warm hand rested on her shoulder. "Jenna." he said. She turned to face him.

"I've called them off, James. I promise."

"It's not as easy as that. You can't just- take it away, and think everything's going back to normal." he said, voice soft.

"But-"

"Go, Jenna."

"James!"

"Go."

"What- are we-" her voice cracked ever so slightly. "Are we finished, then?"

He hesitated. "Until Feburary." he said. "Then we'll see how we feel, and if we want to take it any further."

She wanted to protest- half a year without seeing him? But she was in the wrong, and she knew it.

She nodded somberly, and left.

1 1 z 1 z

"Alex." Mrs Jones greeted. The boy looked up at her blearily, flinching back with a start as he realised who she was.

"Tha- you- it was- what happened?"

"We found you." Mrs Jones stated. "I told your units about your...employment with MI6. They are back at Brecon Beacons, and you are still in MI6 headquarters."

"You _what?" _he said, aghast. "What did they say? Do they... hate me?"

Mrs Jones saw an opening; weaken him with saying they did, isolate him by making him realize he was alone, manipulate him into working for them again.

Time had hardened her heart, taught her the most important lesson in her line of work; the ends justify the means, and if it's for the Greater Good then anything is morally acceptable. She'd learnt that it was for the good of many, and if it broke someone's mind, their heart, their soul to do it, but saved the country from suffering the same- then it was okay. She could do it. She could do it, and sleep fine at night. She could do it, and look at everyone and anyone who judged her in the eye and say, truthfully, without a twitch of regret, that Without Hesitation she would Do It Again.

In a blink of an eye, she would do it.

She saw the opening, knew she could take it, knew she'd be fine with her decision; but still felt relief when she saw a way that wouldn't break Alex once and for all, but still work out her way.

"No, Alex." she said. "They don't. They understand now, everything. And they don't hate you for it."

The way his eyes filled then, with such a childish delight, a pure emotion still not tainted by his experiences, almost awakened some maternal instincts in her- almost.

But she continued.

"Alex. I know what you want to happen now, and I know how to make it happen. You want to go back to SAS, under Thomas Smith, safe from everyone, living as you were this past year; except that your friends know about you now, and you don't need to hide things from them anymore. Alex," she said, her voice soft, emotional. "They can help you."

He lasted in a blissful state of hope and content for only a moment longer. "What's the catch?"

"The catch? Very good, Alex. Now, listen. If you want that, answer this; why did you run?"

"You put me in a fucking mental institute. Why the fuck wouldn't I run?"

She didn't flinch at his language, noting distantly that the months in soldiers' company had obviously changed him, and his way of speaking. "I see. Well, I can put your mind at rest; we realised we'd made a mistake, and you are not insane in anyway-"

"No."

"Pardon?"

"No." his voice was steely. "I'm not doing any more missions."

Her voice was just as steely. She could play at this game far, far better than this boy ever could. "You will. Any time we want you. In the meantime, you will reside at Brecon Beacons under Thomas Smith, or Eel; in addition, you will complete any assignments for SAS with your unit. Your units will be allowed full disclosure, and nobody else. This is what will happen, and that is final."

"I. Will. Not."

"You don't understand. Your feelings, your opinions do _not _come into consideration. You will do what we say and that is it."

"I- I can't. I have flashbacks, nightmares; I'm not in a good mental state, and not even fully recovered from injuries. Even if I agreed, I couldn't!"

"You can walk, talk, think, fight. That is all we need from you."

"You can't make me!"

"Rat has a sister in London."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"She will take a trip, get run over. Not die, maybe, but go into coma. Rat will go to her, leave you, and he'll be devastated. Leopard's older brother will be caught with class A drugs, sent to prison; Leopard will have to go look after his brother's children."

"You can't-"

"K Unit will be sent on another assignment. Currently all are not, unfortunately, in prime mental condition, as of their previous mission; but no matter, I can make it happen. And after, or before- it has come to my attention that Monkey has a previous criminal record. A small one, but enough to ruin his career if it ever came to light. And Lion. Lion- an orphan, a ward of the state. No family to speak of. Just like you, Alex. And then- all of his unit, which he's so proud of, thinks of as his brothers, is almost as desperate as you for; all of them, gone."

"I-"

"And you, Alex. Finally revealed as a fifteen year old; sent back to school, sent to a home. Except you know that's not what will happen. We will take you. No one will care. The enigmatic Thomas Smith, gone; with the rest of his unit leaving in their various ways, who will notice? And when we take you, we'll make you go on missions for us or if you still prove resilient, simply sell you to the highest bidder." her voice was cruel and cold. "God knows we need the extra funding. My office is always freezing!" And it was changed, to a warm tone, a conversational expression on her face. "I get cold just thinking about it. So what do you say?"

"You can't do this! Someone will realise, someone will do _something- _I'll escape! I've done it before! And tell, tell the media!"

"Who will notice? And who will listen to a crazy, fifteen year old _child _against the word of our prime minister?"

"Fuck you. _Fuck you. _I can't believe it- I-" then he flipped his legs over the side of the bed and ran out the room.

The guard was there, of course, to catch him; in his weakened, slightly drugged state, Alex could do nothing as he was dragged back onto the bed and secured.

Mrs Jones looked at him rather pityingly. "A pathetic try." she commented, then beckoned for the guard. "You have the sedative?"

"Fuck you!" Alex shouted as loud as he could, throat catching on the last word, anguish and pain in his eyes, and was ignored by the two adults in the room.

"Sedative?" Mrs Jones prompted. The guard looked at Alex, and she saw the hesitation in his eyes as he looked at the young, injured boy on the bed. Mrs Jones made a mental note to fire him at the earliest opportunity and snatched the sedative off him, kneeling next to Alex's bed and turning his wrist round with expert hands. She found his vein, inserted the sedative, pulled it out and stood back.

"Fuck you." Alex repeated, slurring, his eyes glazing over. "Fuck you."

"Think about it, Alex." she said. "Ruin the lives of everyone you care about- and I'll make sure to let them know who made it happen- or co operate, do a few missions and be free to do what you've been doing all this time- pretending to be a soldier."

He mumbled something, slitted eyes glaring at her, filled with a hateful loathing. His fingers curled into a fist weakly, then slumped open as he succumbed to unconsciousness.

Mrs Jones looked at him once more, and knew that he would do as she wanted, in the end; and left the room. Thinking about what a pathetic little boy he was, and how pathetic his opinion was, and the pathetic pettiness of not dedicating himself to the Greater Good.

1 1 z 1 z

"Mrs Jones?"

"Yes?" Mrs Jones answered, walking briskly away from Alex's holding room.

"I have news on James Adams. He and Jenna had a... lover's tiff, as far as I can work out, and Jenna has sent us- I mean, the Scorpia team I'm infiltrating- away. She said never to come back. I've discerned she is not seeing James until February, and for that time he will be alone."

"So we can strike then?"

"No. He's in a safe house- the only way in is through the sewers, which no adult can squeeze through. Maybe a teenager, or child, but they don't have the skills needed for the assassination."

"You leave that to me," Mrs Jones smiled, her tone grim. "Thank you."

1 1 z 1 z

He woke up in a hospital bed, with a bad taste in his mouth and a headache. His arms and legs were bound to the rails of the bed, and a loose sheet was covering him; a throbbing pain sounded in his shoulder when he focused, and when he focused his stomach raged up inside of him and his heart beat against his ribs, like a rabid creature in a cage.

He opened his eyes, squinting at the ceiling, looking everywhere but the figure that had recently become the most hated in his life that stood beside him, her hands folded primly in front of her, her face unlined and suit pressed, her lips red with lipstick and sucking on a peppermint.

"Have you made your decision?"

But in the end, there never really was one. Mrs Jones knew that, he knew that, Alan Blunt knew that and that was why the man hadn't left his position a long time before Mrs Jones took over.

"Yes." he said throatily, and thought of his new family.

"Good. One of my agents will brief you on the mission shortly; we are starting with the an easy one, of minimal risk and which should only take about a week. After that you may return to Brecon Beacons, or stay here, to treat any injuries you may have and catch up on school work- which, if I may remind you, you will now be expected to do. We will give materials for it. Where are you staying?"

"Brecon Beacons." he said instantly.

"Okay. Right, after this mission you will have a month's rest then we'd like you to complete another mission- a small assassination, of a member of Scorpia, which I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear."

"What? I thought- Scorpia-"

"Up and running, stronger than before."

"Everything I did was for nothing?"

"You saved the world, Alex. Not a single thing you did was for nothing."

He almost took comfort from the fact, then remembered who he was speaking to.

"So. An assassination."

"Yes. A month from now. Should only be short, but extremely high risk. The basics are this; you will go through the sewers into a safe house, kill a man of whom you we will show you a picture. He will, our sources tell us, be alone, and probably unharmed. He is in a safe house, and lover of Jenna, a high Scorpia operative; they recently had a disagreement and our sources tell us he will be alone for a couple of months."

"Okay. A month from now. And a week long mission now." he took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay."

He wanted to ask, didn't let it slip out of his mouth, held it in, then said it; "Any risk of being taken captive?"

She gave him a level look.

"Yes." She turned. "Goodbye, Alex. I shall see you in a month."

Mrs Jones left the room, and an agent came into brief him, and all the while there was a sick, sick feeling in his stomach that wouldn't go away, no matter what he did.

He went down, got weapons, got suited up, practiced sharpshooting skills, went to Smithers for some gadgets, and then went in a ferry to France for a mission, which was low risk and would take a week. The sick feeling stayed in his stomach and he realised that in a month, for the assassination, everything was going to collapse.

But; "Bonjour." he greeted the man at the border, sliding over a fake passport. "Je m'appelle Jerome Relant."

Mission on.

1 1 z 1 z

ONE WEEK LATER...

1 1 z 1 z

A week had passed and still no sign had come from Eel.

They sat in the canteen, munching moodily on food, the atmosphere decidedly different from a mere few weeks ago. All seven men (the word _seven _struck another pain of loss) were starkly changed from their usual personalities; anyone could see that, and since most knew the seven, they knew the cause; an Eel, who was conspicuously missing.

The main problem was that they could not actually do anything about it. They were helpless. Completely and utterly helpless.

They'd discussed possible courses of action over the week, and each had come to nothing; going to the sergeant had failed, their contracts restricted them for leaving Beacon Brecons without reason, the Official Secrets Act they'd signed stopped them revealing Eel's situation to the media or anyone who could help, there was no way to contact Eel, no one who knew about Eel, _nothing they could fucking do, _but one; wait.

Wait. And wait, and wait, and wait.

The thing about waiting is that it gives you time to think. Think in particular about the thing you are waiting for, which in their case was Eel. So over the week they thought and spoke a lot about Eel, which was horrible because no one really wanted to go near that tangle.

The whole MI6 thing. They were upset he kept something as big as that from them, but worse- disgusted. Disgusted with their country, because they used a child in that way.

And from the look on Mrs Jones face, had no qualms about it.

Part of being in the military was being patriotic. All seven men loved their country, were loyal, would die for it; and here, here was disgust, a black feeling festering and gnawing and tainting everything until they weren't sure _why _they loved their country anymore, exactly _why _they were loyal to it.

But this- this went against everything they loved for, so they run away from that subject, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

A week never seemed like a long time, to anyone. But such a stark difference in their lives had to be taken into consideration, and so the days dragged on, turning into aeons transforming them all into old men, just waiting to die. Or waiting- for Eel.

Wait, wait, wait.

Understandably, it was with a start that they wandered back to the barracks and found a bruised member with a cast on his arm unpacking belongings.

"Eel?"

**Longer than usual- your reward for waiting so long. Also a very fast moving chapter. Let's go over what happened;**

**K Unit and D Unit are told by Mrs Jones everything about Alex. They know he's an underage minor, a spy, and that he lied to them.**

**James and Jenna have an argument and James is left unprotected... just asking for a certain teenager to assassinate him, really...**

**Mrs Jones (that evil, evil woman) blackmails Alex into doing missions. He's to do a one week mission now, and a month later the aforementioned assassination. **

**And a week later, when K Unit and D Unit are tired of waiting for their young comrade, Eel appears in the barracks.**

**So. Yup. **

**Um.**

**I have a new story up. This means this story will be updated less, unfortunately; especially as the new one seems to be much popular (already) than this one. But this will still be updated, I swear; it's just reaching a massive climax.**

**Anyway, new story; Alex Rider and Avengers crossover, with Alex still working for MI6 and being blackmailed by a simple deal with Mrs Jones; death by Chinese firing squad or Do What I Say. With relations between Britain and America tense Mrs Jones hands Alex over as a gift of goodwill- aged sixteen, he's worked against most of the terrorist agencies in the world and is deemed something of an expert. The Avengers are having trouble with the Eye, so he's sent to help there...but they don't want to babysit a criminal (who regularly tries to escape, as CIA don't have any hold on him) and their morals (pesky things) start intruding when they find out his age...**

**It's called Cruel, Hard World. Loads of you have already seen it, and followed and reviewed and stuff, so thanks for the support; but those of you that haven't, if it sounds interesting go look.**

**Some shameless self advertising. :)**

**ANYWAY- year sixes in UK currently making the transition between primary and secondary. In the area I live, these three days year 6's are coming up to experience some secondary school, and I have to guide them around _and _do some speech to welcome them by tomorrow. Damnit, they are _so _annoying. Lunch queue is full of them and all our timetables are messed up and stuff. And they're tiny.**

**Anyone else doing anything connected with induction days? Or one of the year sixes? Have anything similar in other countries?**

**Next chapter up soon, then!**


	14. 1 4 All and All For None

**Hello, I thought, that I was dying  
Because, I forgot to breath  
It's night time now but the sun's not rising  
I'm not sure where I am, but I want to leave**

**-Unknown, by Unknown**

**AFTERWARDS; **Once upon a time there lived a boy called Alex Rider.

His parents died. His uncle died. A secret government agency recruited him and turned him into a weapon. And because kids aren't meant to be weapons, his mind broke, and he forgot to wonder why it had to be him.

His guardian died. A family took him in; for a precious month, he was normal. They threw him out, broke his heart, the secret government agency took him in again.

He made a friend then he lost that friend. His eyes grew cold, his gun was empty and his bullets resided in the still hearts of forgotten corpses. His soul broke. Nightmares stole his sleep, flashbacks stole his day, screams stole the silence he so desperately wished was his.

(Like a coward) he ran away. (Like a liar) he built a new life. (Like a fool) he watched it crash down around him, but with soul, heart and mind broken, he did nothing but watch it tumble and fall. And (like a selfish bastard) he didn't let go of the family he'd created until it was too late.

Just before the boy called Alex was gone, he'd look over the tale of his life and think maybe it was better that that boy went, because it was a tale of tragedy and stupidity, and he hated himself for doing the things he did. And afterwards, when he was but an empty husk, he'd be glad to forget about everything that happened.

Even if then was worse.

But that was later, much later, once everything had risen up and crashed down; all the heavens and the earth falling and burning in the pits of hell.

**NOW; **Alex unwrapped the small marble egg he'd bought in France (as a souvenir) and laid it on his bunk, then tipped the remainder of the bag onto the floor. He picked up the clothes without bloodstains and put them in one pile, too formal clothes in another, and clothes he was able to wear in the last; gathered up the last pile, stuffed it in a drawer, shoved the other two under the bunk- out of sight, out of mind- and sighed, because his unpacking was finished, and now he had to face his silently fuming team members.

He turned around and smiled at them pleasantly. "Hey, guys. How's stuff?"  
This was rewarded with blank stares and Alex felt his smile falter a little.

Maybe they'd taken it worse then he'd thought...

"Um," he tried. "Would you stop staring? It's kinda freaky."**  
**"Eel. Where were you for the past week?" Rat finally said, regarding him with a hard glare. This was, Alex thought rather sombrely, the Moment of Truth. He sat down on the floor, bit his lip and told them that- well, they knew he had worked for MI6, right? (This was met by tense nods and a promise to talk more about it later- something he wasn't looking forwards to). Well, um, he was working for them again. And, uh, that week? Away? It was a mission. In France. Did they like his tan?

They didn't answer the last question (Alex personally thought it suited him) and instead launched into a tirade asking why the hell he was working for an agency who 1) he'd run away from 2) had obviously made his life a misery and 3) well, they couldn't think of a three but _why the hell was he working for them? _

This prompted another Moment of Truth from Alex; to tell or not to tell?

He sat for a moment in silence, trying to figure out this complicated conundrum, then realised everyone was staring at him as if he was mentally ill.

(Which, ahem, he was.)

"Uh, well..." he winced, shrugged, went for the classic spy reply. "Classified." Because somehow he didn't think they'd take too well to him being blackmailed about them. And that might end them up in prison. Which was fine for people like Rat and Eagle, but which he'd feel bad about if it was any of the others..._yes, _he was joking.

"Come off it, Alex." Wolf growled. Alex winced at the name 'Alex'. They were really going hard core now. "We get enough of that classified shit from Fox. Just tell us why you agreed to work for MI6 when they drove you insane-" he winced again, "killed your family-" and again, "and then even you had the common sense to run away from them- and now you're going back!"

Alex just loved how Wolf said 'you', as if anyone else would've done so now but Alex was just so thick it was surprising that even _he _had thought to run away.

"So? Why is that, Alex?"  
"Please stop calling me Alex." he winced (talking to Wolf seemed to have bought up a lot of wincing). "S'just Eel."  
"Fine. Eel. Now- tell. Us."  
"Well," he hesitated. "How much did Mrs Jones tell you? About me, I mean?"  
"Why'd ya want to know that? So you can figure out what subjects not to talk about?" Rat said shrewdly. Alex shrugged.  
"That you were recruited at fourteen." Leopard said in monotone. "You went on a number of successful missions. You were captured by the enemy; mentally tortured; escaped back to MI6 psychologically broken. They put you in a mental institute, in which you suffered flashbacks and nightmares, like you have now. You escaped, got some illegal documents, entered SAS."  
"Huh," Alex mulled over this. "They told you less then I thought." But they knew the basics, and there was no reason to hide secrets any more. "'Kay, I'll fill you in."

They looked at him expectantly. "You might wanna sit down. This will take a while."

He took a deep breath. "Er, right. Well, when I was really young my parents died, my uncle took care of me, he died, then my guardian was taking care of me, MI6 hired me to complete a mission, I did, then another; I didn't want to, they threatened to deport my guardian, I didn't want that, I did a load more missions, my guardian died, I went to live in America, stuff happened, I came back, I went to MI6 of my own will and got them to hire me again, did a few more missions, made friends with some agents, got captured, tortured; agents died trying to rescue me, and the only other one I was friends with dragged me to a mental institute. I escaped, came here, then just now Mrs Jones hired me again so, um, I went on a mission in France, it was basically okay, and, yeah."

He paused. "That didn't take that long. Any questions?" Near everyone opened their mouths to say something and he rushed on. "No? Good. Okay. Well, I'm going for dinner now."

All moved as one to block his way to the door and he was then forced to answer the questions.

"How much did you get paid?"

"Really? That's what you wanted to ask?"

Eagle shrugged and grinned.

"Um, well, I didn't really get paid. Because it wasn't legal or anything. So they didn't have to pay me."

"WHAT? But I thought that's the reason you're working for them now?"

"Um, no."

A pause. Alex gave in.

"Fine. I'm working for them because theysaidthey'ddostufftoyouifIdidn't and anyway Monkey's got a criminal record!" He pointed at a now open mouthed Monkey, pleased his trick had worked to distract the attention from his garbled mess.  
"Eel, Fox has used that trick on us loads of times." Snake said dismissively. "We know about Monkey. He told us."  
Aw, shucks, Alex thought.  
"We didn't know that!" Lion said. Everyone shrugged and turned to Alex.  
"What was that thing you said, Eel? We didn't catch that."

He frowned, decided to get it over with, and told them. "They'd do stuff. To you guys. If I didn't."  
"Blackmail?!" Leopard said, aghast. Rat turned to him, eyebrows raised.  
"No shit Sherlock."  
Leopard scowled.  
"Yeah." Alex said uncomfortably. "I really don't want to talk about this any more. There's nothing we can do, so there's no point shouting or anything about it, and if you don't mind I'm really hungry right now. Bye."

Elbowing past the horde of muscled SAS men, Alex strode off.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc. _

The next few days had a seemingly ethereal feel to them, and a taste of nostalgia. It was unanimously agreed to obey Eel and not mention any of the spy business- they were happy to live in this muffled state of drifting from task to task (in the faintest sense of drifting there could be, since this was, after all, Brecon Beacons), treating Eel once more as an adult an trying desperately to pretend they weren't living in the past.

And so; they played poker, they trained on the assault course. Eel and Rat placed bets on the smallest of things and they complained of the food at mealtimes. Days passed without a flashback, Eel swallowed his dreamless pills without complaint, they bickered amongst each-other, they went on cold, wet hikes with little in the way of supplies; they talked with the other units, attended dreary lectures, worked on skills with weapons, tried not to comment when Eel was a little bit slower, a little bit weaker, because now they knew the reason.

And some weight was added to the phrase 'ignorance is a blessing'.

Alex was happy enough to continue as if nothing had changed for as long as possible, and so put off the fact that he was doing an assassination that weekend and forgot to tell them a few times more than he could afford. Thankfully, his conscience was there with a plan; the hour before he left, blurt it out, and run off before they could react. The time spent doing the mission in question would give them time to cool off, and when he'd came back everything would be fine and rainbows would glow and birds would sing and little candy love hearts would fall from the heavens.

(And pigs, of course, would fly.)

The day of the assassination dawned.

He woke up a little earlier, trembling with nerves (not for the assassination, but for telling his unit mates of that fact) then (he was _not _a coward) backed down and decided to leave them a note.

_Doing another mission, _he scribbled. _Back soon. Don't worry about me. Have fun doing whatever you're doing. Please don't be (that) mad._

_Ale Eel._

He tore off a strip of duct tape from his handy supply (duct tape cures everything) and taped it to Rat's forehead. There was a good chance the man wouldn't notice it but hopefully everyone else would. Alex packed a few meagre supplies- unsure how long an assassination would take- shouldered his backpack and told the sergeant he was leaving for '6 business.

A black car picked him up (they were always black) and drove him to MI6 headquarters. "Hello." he said to the driver. "I'm Alex."

A moment of silence.

"It's polite to offer your name in return, you know."

No movement but the changing of gears.

"And rude not to speak."

A slight clenching of the driver's fingers on the wheel.

"Are you MI6? Or ex-MI6? Mean of them to put you on the job like this. I thought all ex-agents got killed. But then, I suppose you're still useful. A bit. I guess they'll kill you after."

The driver swung round, his mouth opened; seeing Alex's gleeful smile, he turned back to the front and continued driving, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"Ah, well. Anyway. Did you know that the sky is sky-blue? I only just realised that. I always thought it was more a kind of turquoise, you know? But then I realised that sky-blue must be the colour of the sky, because it has sky in it. Strange, because sky-blue is nowhere near the colour turquoise."

This failed to procure further reaction.

"If you could be any animal, what would you be? I think I'd be a poodle. Because people like poodles and take care of them. No one's ever taken care of me." he inserted a puppy dog impression but it was wasted on the stoic driver, so he moved on. "And they never suspect them. They think they're all, you know, poodly and stuff, but inside they're actually tigers- ROAR!" He shouted the last bit, rearing up on his seat, an inch away from the driver's face.

He burst out laughing when the driver flinched back and pulled out a gun, putting it hurriedly back in his suit when he realised there was no threat.

"I knew you had a gun!" Alex said, amidst laughter. "I so knew it! They never give me guns, you know. Only SAS give me a gun. And then it's only on the shooting range. You'd think '6 would give me a gun for missions, but noooo, Mrs Jones said it's _completely _not important, that I can use much better things like, I don't know, my biceps. Which I admit is a pretty good idea, since my biceps are to die for." he flexed the said muscles. "Men turn gay for these rock hard pretties."

The driver's eyebrow twitched.

"Oh, are you gay? Sorry. These are probably doing a lot of harm to your inner self control. I expect you're trying immensely hard to stop yourself pouncing on me and doing totally unspeakable things. I'll just cover them then." He pulled his shirt arms down and burst into a fresh wave of laughter when a scowl appeared momentarily on the driver's face.

"Anyway," he said, when he'd regained control. "I have this brother called Ben. He has pink hair and a blue eyeball and is gay as well, so I can hook you guys up. Oh wait, he's made up. Shame. I have a lot of made up friends. I had a very desolate childhood, you know. Secluded by my cruel classmates. Isolated by my cruel teacher. Shunned by my parents. Dammit, that's a lie as well. I was actually very popular and my parents are dead." he laughed again, because this was amazingly funny, and the driver took an unnecessarily harsh turn round the corner. "You probably think I'm a compulsive liar or something. I'm actually not; it's just around you, because you're so hsirevird, which for your information is 'driverish', because you seem a lot like a driver when-"  
"Thank god!" the driver shouted as the car slid to a stop. Alex looked up disappointedly; they were parked in front of Royal and General bank.

A shiver of foreboding ran across his spine and he forced his fingers to stop gripping the sides of his seat.

Ah well, that drive had been fun. "You can get out now." the driver said through gritted teeth.  
"Yay! You're speaking!" Alex said, delighted. "Well, I'm not going out until you tell me your name."  
"What? Get out, you-"  
"Language." Alex tutted. "I said, I'm not getting out until you tell me your name."  
"Fuck off and get out of my fucking car!"

Alex shrugged nonchalantly. "Fine. Well, about the 'driverish' thing, I'm pretty sure 'driverish' isn't a word. But that's just relative, isn't it? You can add 'ish' to anything and I think it becomes a word. I think. Because of my abused childhood I had little education so I don't know much about grammar and stuff, so-"  
"Thomas!" interrupted the driver. "Thomas Radeling. Now GET OUT!"

Alex smiled, shouldered his backpack and stepped out of the car.

The drive had most definitely been fun, he mused. A perfect distraction for what was forthcoming- the assassination.

He hadn't really bothered about it until it was right in front of him, and now he was panicking. He had to _kill _someone. Ok, he'd done that plenty of times before, but he had to actually _go out _and _kill _someone- before it had been receive information, capture someone, infiltrate this, take down that. Kill a load of people, injure a load more. But not go out with the intent to get someone- and- and kill them.

They hadn't done anything to him. Chances were they wouldn't meet if it wasn't for this mission. For all he knew, they were being blackmailed to do whatever it was that had put them on the '6 hit-list. Maybe (a cruel echo of what he'd taunted Thomas with in the car) it was an old agent, who no longer had any use but knew too much. He shivered and pretended to himself that it was the wave of air conditioning that hit him when he stepped inside the bank.

He felt out of place in his military overalls, in this posh, starkly empty lobby, with glass doors and fake leaflets of the 'Royal and General bank' in stylish stacks on polished wood tables.

Alex spotted a secretary lounging uninterestedly at her desk and strode over, biting the edge of his lip and trying to appear confident. "Um." he said, to get her attention. "Could I see Mrs Jones?" She gazed at him, and looked down, scanning the list in front of her.  
"Thomas Smith?" she asked. He hesitated, and realised this was a sort of sign from Mrs Jones; help us, we'll secure you in your position at SAS. This is Our Reward for good behaviour, and you will accept like a Good Little Dog.  
"Yeah. Thomas Smith." he agreed.  
"Go straight up. Lift's round the back-" she jerked her head to the direction. "And it's the first door on your right."

He shrugged, smiled at her, and ten minutes later was sitting opposite Mrs Jones and being debriefed.

Mrs Jones. Maybe once he'd thought her okay, but now he was clenching his fists to stop himself launching forwards and wrapping his hands round her neck because _how dare she-_

"-Alex, are you listening?" she said. He smiled blandly and nodded. "Okay, so we'll be driving you near to the safe-house where the target is stored. You'll enter the sewers and follow the map-" she slid a sheet of paper over to him, which was a map- "And crawl up a pipe to the house. Which comes to the reason why you are the one completing this assassination instead of one of our selective assassins; the pipe is too small to allow anyone but a child like you up it. Obviously you are the only one with the skills, so that is why you are completing this mission. Anyway- back on subject- you'll enter the house and comb all rooms for the target. Our sources tell us he'll be alone but expect the unexpected." she smiled wryly. "We'll provide you with a gun, to perform the killing. Doesn't matter if it's messy, but try and avoid identification; it doesn't matter, though, if you do leave something. Leave the body wherever you kill it."

Alex nodded as he took in the facts cleanly and efficiently, determining the best course of action.

"Go to Mr Jacobs- that's Mr Smithers replacement, by the way- to receive all the things you need for the mission. He'll then direct you to the agent who will show you the target's profile and then you will leave."  
"What happened to Smithers?" Alex asked, before leaving. Mrs Jones regarded him coldly.  
"He turned out to be a mole. He was accordingly dealt with."

A stab of betrayal hit Alex with the words, and a shiver at the words 'accordingly dealt with'; he let none of this show on his face, nodded to Mrs Jones, and exited (palming her tin of peppermints on the way out because he couldn't help himself.)

Mr Jacobs handed him a gun (Glock 17), a gun holster, a roll of ammunition, sewer overalls and boots, both dispensable, a special black clothing that would help him blend in more (like Harry Potter's invisibility cloak? He'd asked and was ignored) and a phone, used solely to communicate with MI6. Alex had attempted conversation and was ignored. Jacobs sent him to the next office along, to see the man who would brief him about the target.

He entered the room, closed the door, sat down and reared back- not unlocking his horrified eyes from the green ones of the man in front of him. "Robin?" he said, a harsh whisper.

Robin was twenty seven years old, MI6 agent and Alex's former friend.

When the boy had come back from America Robin, along with some others, had grudgingly been sent on a mission with him. When he proved to be on par with the rumours, they'd formed a tentative relationship which had grown stronger with each mission, until they could call each-other 'friends' and applied to be partners.

And then.

A mission gone wrong; Alex captured, tortured; Robin had been the one to drag him to the mental asylum. Robin had been the one to threaten the staff into silence, and to help secure Alex to the bed. And he'd been the one to walk away without so much as a goodbye.

To see the child again was... surprising, in the least. Robin nodded at him. "Hello, Alex." he said, voice cold, for their friendship was most definitely over and they should now proceed with business.  
"It's Thomas." Alex said, just as coldly, and bit his lips and clenched his fists under the desk and they Proceeded To Business.

The target was a tanned, handsome man of thirty two years. His name was James (surname unknown) and he had no family other than a long time lover, Jenna Restarrar (why was that name so familiar?) who he was currently in an argument with.

Reason for termination order; classified.  
Crimes; classified.  
Part of group - (classified.)

Never had Alex hated the word so much.

He departed from the office (not able to resist a quick, filthy glare) and collapsed into the back-seat of a black car, whose driver was unfortunately not Thomas Radeling, but- "Mrs Jones? You're driving me?"  
"Evidently." she said, and drove off.

Three minutes into the drive and she started talking. "Alex, I have to talk to you. You have to understand that everything I do is for the greater good and-"

He was pretty tired, and figured that since the drive was two hours it would help if he had a quick nap in the car.

**What is it with me and making Alex fall asleep? This story, my other story; can't get away from it.**

**Hmm...**

**Anyway, my 'm' button isn't working properly. It has a crumb underneath it (this is a shared laptop) and every time I press it I have to press it extra hard, which is not natural and slows down my typing and is really annoying and you will not _believe _how many 'm's are in this story. More than any other letter, I think. It's so annoying!**

**And. My bike just got stolen. Yes, stolen. It was a good bike- and- _sniffle- _now, it's- it's gone- because I left it out that one time...so I am bike-less. For a year. **

**Okay, so this story two OC's were introduced- (well, three if you count Mr Jacobs, but he's not really important) and Thomas Radeling may be included ore in the story (depending on reader's requests- did you like him/Alex's attitude towards him? Want to hear more of that poor driver?) and Robin. Who is not important, will not be included any more (unless you really want me to, but I doubt you will) and was only to, like, demonstrate how many times Alex is betrayed. Poor kid :( and his troubles are not over...**

**That bit at the beginning? All will become clear soon...**

**In other news, I have finally laid out a plan for this story. I think it's gonna be about thirty chapters (give or take fifteen or so XD ) and I can say safely that there will be a sequel. Because the ending is something everyone will hate which I can't wait to write but leaves lots of loose ends so it needs a sequel.**

**More news on the sequel (what genre, crossover or not etc.) coming soon.**

**And- can't remember if I've said this already- thanks everyone who went over to Cruel, Hard World! I was so happy recognising pen names from this story on reviews for that one. Really supportive of you guys thank you so much! (Chapter three is up of that story, making it UNIQUE!)**

**Um, next chapter in five days. Will document assassination, and the aftermath...**


	15. Assass1n's 5hot

_Marlene watches from the wall_

_Her mocking smile says it all_

_As she records the rise and fall_

_Of every soldier passing._

_But the only soldier now is me;_

_I'm fighting things I cannot see-_

_Think it's called my destiny, but I am changing-_

_Marlene on the wall._

_-_**Marlene On the Wall, by Suzanne Vega**

**Happy birthday, CoolerThanThouArt!**

Jenna Renarla tore at her hair, tapped her fingers on the table, pushed her chair back and paced back and forth. She picked up her phone, turned it off, turned it on. Plugged headphones in, turned the volume up loud, ripped them out. Bit her nails, finished her coffee, threw the cup angrily into the waste-paper bin. Missed, scowled, strode over and picked it up, dropped it in the bin.

Gave orders angrily to exterminate the branch of Scorpia gone rogue, went downstairs and tortured a prisoner. Extracted some correct information, shot the prisoner in the head, discarded a body in a ditch. Told the secretary angrily to hold all calls, drove to the gym for a harsh work out, went back to her apartment for a shower and change of clothes.

She took a deep breath and sat down on her bed. Then she started to cry.

For weeks, now, there'd been a horrible gnawing emptiness inside of her; a loss noticeable as the shape of James, a hole in the shape of his body in splinters on her heart. She missed him. She missed him so much it physically _hurt, _and the last few days had been especially bad- she could hardly concentrate on work, couldn't sleep from worry, from guilt- felt her heart wrench every time she opened her phone and saw the wallpaper, a picture of her and James, a stolen moment of what was gone.

She couldn't- she couldn't _do _it any more. It was physically impossible to keep living like this. She had to _do _something about it.

Jenna picked up her car keys and, dangling them from one finger, decided. To go over there, _right now, _and sort this out. Once and for all.

She stepped outside and started up the car, in her haste forgetting the gun she took everywhere, but deeming it unimportant and stepping on the accelerator. Twenty minutes later she was parking in the drive way outside James' safe-house, getting out of the car and locking it with a flash of the lights and a click of the button.

Come on, Jenna.

She walked up the winding path to the front floor and rang the bell.

No sound of footsteps. No noise from the inside of the house at all. And James' motorbike outside showed he was definitely there.

She rang the doorbell again, more impatiently this time, and hammered on the door with a manicured hand. "James!" she shouted. "James! It's Jenna!"

No one answered. A faint worry began to grow in her chest.

Then- "Je-"

An angry shout. A voice unmistakeably her lover's, a booming shudder unmistakeably that of a gun, a thud unmistakeably that of a body.

Panic seared black lines in front of her eyes, and she fumbled for her hair-clip, which she twisted into the key hole with clumsy fingers until she heard a _click. _The door swung open and she ran in, searching the rooms of the house blindly until-

When she found them, she screamed, and reached for a gun that wasn't there.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc. _

Alex scowled disgustedly at the sludge that suddenly rose up, swallowing him with a squelch up to the waist and then sinking back down, leaving him covered from waist downwards in a dark, lumpy mud.

Yeah, it wasn't mud. Calling it that made him feel a tiny bit better.

He started wading forwards again, using a powerful torch to scan the dank walls of the sewer tunnels around him. Breathing through his mouth so as not to smell the stink- that terrible, horrible _stink- _he tapped his gun, under layers of sewer overalls, to reassure himself that it was there, and moved on.

Gah, he just had to go through the _sewers, _didn't he? The thing about him being the only one small enough to go up a pipe was bullshit. Everyone had probably only turned down the job because of the fact they had to go through these sewers- a luxury that he didn't have.

Damn them. Damn them all.

Alex refrained from kicking up a mound of shit, because- let's face it- it wouldn't make anything any better. Instead, as he walked, he glared at the hands on his luminous watch face; it'd take fifteen minutes of walking, his map said. Wait, according to it, he should be there about- now.

He looked around.

There was nothing but two walls of a tunnel either side, a river of slow moving crap and piss and rubbish, and a low, wet ceiling covered in moss and webs and dripping with condensation...and a strange red cross painted just above him.

(Condensation was just a word to make him feel clever. He didn't know if it was condensation or whatever, because he hadn't exactly done a lot of science, effectively quitting education at fourteen.)

Alex gulped as a horrible realisation occurred. He stared at the map, shining a torch on it, and shuddered as he realised his premonition was right. A few seconds passed as he studied the map desperately, hoping there was some other option- then finally, he gave in and wrapped the map up tight, putting it in his pocket and gulping nervously.

Then he knelt down and plunged his hands into the viscous brown lake.

(It just had to be through the _sewers, _didn't it? Not something classy, like, say, the air vents- noooo, it was the cliché _sewers.)_

It took more effort then he'd thought to get through the different layers of things he _really _didn't want to think about right now. Just as he thought, there was a metal grille directly below him. He felt around- it was big enough to fit through, if he could lever it up.

Alex grabbed the two iron handles on either side, gritted his teeth and _pulled. _

It came up easier than he had expected, with a squelch and a splatter of shit. Immediately, the sludge started dripping down the now black, gaping hole. Alex took a deep breath and dropped through.

He landed hard on a stone surface which was slick with dirty water and grimaced in disgust when crap started splattering down from above. He moved out of the way quickly- bumping into a craggy wall, near invisible in the total darkness. At the bottom of the wall was a pipe just big enough for him to get into but too small for comfort.

Alex went in head first and started wriggling along, feeling slightly foolish as he did so. The pipe slowly began to slope upwards- he had to catch himself a few times, sliding back a few metres before he had the presence of mind to brace his arms and legs against the pipe walls- and he figured he was heading upwards into the house.

An uncomfortable bulge at his side reminded him what he had to do when he got there.

What seemed like hours later, but was probably only a few minutes, Alex began to get claustrophobic. A quick therapy crash course a few months back in MI6 had taken away all phobia's he might have had, of course, but it was hard not to feel a bit of panic in the black darkness, crawling up a seemingly endless pipe with no way to time how long it'd take to get there (the watch had disappeared in one frantic scrabble when he was sliding much too steeply) and a horrible fear that the walls were getting closer and closer and _closer- _

Alex gasped in relief as he came head first into a grille.

Not because of coming head first into the grille. Obviously. Because he was at the end of the pipe journey, that's all.

It hurt, a bit (going head first into the grille) but he discarded that as he searched around in his belt for the screwdriver. He carefully took it out and using the light that filtered through the grille, started to unscrew the screws on each of the four corners. When it was done, he levered it behind him and set it down with a quiet clang. He removed the heavy sewer overalls and laid them behind him as well; took off his disgusting boots, pulled on a pair of soft trainers that were hanging from his belt, clambered out of the grille and looked around, relatively sludge free.

He was in a boiler room. It was small and hot, with a door hanging slightly open in front of him. Alex took the gun from his belt and clicked the safety _off. _

This was the beginning.

He cautiously pushed the door open with the muzzle of the gun, and stepped out quickly, pointing the gun around him and scanning his surroundings quickly.

An empty corridor. Staircase at the end, going down, what looked to be a bedroom next to him, and toilet directly ahead. He padded towards the bedroom. The double bed in the middle was made; he checked underneath, round the corners; there was a large window with two cream curtains, which he prodded to make sure no one was hiding in them, and checked the ledge in case someone was hanging down on it.

He hoped his target wouldn't know he was there yet, but better safe then sorry.

He searched the wardrobe and the drawers and lifted up the rug and took down pictures in case there were secret entrances behind them. Once he determined the bedroom was clear, he ran silently out and into the toilet.

No one.

He went downstairs, treading on the very edge with light feet so it wouldn't creak. The down stairs cupboard was full of shoes and too small to hide a man in.

His whole body was buzzing with nerves. A screen showed the world a jumping mass of quivering objects, a screen made of pure adrenaline. The gun was cold in his hand, his clothes rough against his skin, his back slick with sweat, his heart pounding with a desperate sort of fear.

A ghost already haunting him of another he could add to the list of killed-

The living room was full of comfortable sofas, a fluffed rug on the carpet, a wide 42 inch television, still on, playing BBC News on mute. Some tasteful pictures in glided frames hung on the warmly painted walls. Alex checked behind the sofas, knew there weren't many other places someone could hide, stepped nervously into the next room- a dining room- and began to feel a quick tremor of hope that there was no one here and he wouldn't have to kill. Or not today, anyway.

It was in the kitchen he found his target.

The man was sitting at a table, blank laptop in front of him, eating a sandwich. He was dressed in a plain white t shirt- which would stain horribly, a distant part of Alex's mind mused- and dark green shorts, profile fitting exactly the picture Alex had been shown.

Deep breaths, Alex.

He padded up behind the man, pointed the gun, safety off-

The man exploded round, fist punching into Alex's stomach making him double over and drop the gun at his feet, chair skittering back over the kitchen floor. "Who the hell are you?" the man shouted then spotted the gun. "Who the hell is sending a kid assassin after me?"

Alex dropped his gaze and let his lower lip tremble. "They- they said that-"

He dived down, scooped up the gun, shot the man directly between the eyes.

There was an explosion of brains on the sandwich and laptop and the man slumped down, half his head missing, some of it dripping onto his shirt. It contrasted starkly with the clean whiteness and a distant part of Alex's mind said that _yes_ that would definitely stain.

Alex's stomach whirled up as he realised what he had done. The gun fell with a clatter to the floor. He stared blankly at the man he had killed.

Deep breaths, Alex. In, and out. You can do it.

He'd killed plenty before. It was fine. _He was fine. _

He turned around and gasped as he was face to face with a woman, crazy eyed and shaking, grasping for a gun.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc. _

Jenna took in the scene in front of her.

A boy, with a gun hanging loosely from his hand. His back to her, staring down at the floor, next to the table. A splatter of blood on the cabinet in front of him, a folded lump the thing that he was staring at.

The folded lump had a pristine white shirt, ruined by a grotesque soaking of vibrant scarlet goo, with lumps of dark brownish red dribbling down onto pale, lax hands. Above this was a face, painfully still, with full lips she knew so well, that cleft in it's chin, a sloped nose, freckled cheeks, long eyelashes- a face framed by thick, curly hair. And a forehead with a perfect round circle in the middle, gaping in astonishment, empty in death.

James.

Jenna found quickly she didn't have a weapon, but that was of no matter. With a scream, she launched herself at the infuriatingly calm figure of a boy standing next to her dead lover. He turned on her with a grunt and loosed a shot that went wide; the recoil slammed into his chest, giving her a momentary distraction as she punched him in the stomach. He doubled over but recovered quickly, smashing the butt of the gun into her head.

It glanced off, but still should've hurt. Full of an empty, keening loss, Jenna was immune to physical pain. She ignored it.

She gripped the gun in one hand and tore it away from him, throwing it across the room. In one smooth moment Jenna tripped the boy up- he swept his feet underneath her, making her fall with him. They grappled on the ground for a moment before he managed to twist her arm up behind her back.

She screamed as it was dislocated, but pulled out of his grasp and kicked him in the face with the heel of her boot. He groaned and tried to stem the flow of blood falling from his nose, while she slammed her shoulder harshly into the wall to pop it back into place- the pain rose for an agonizing second, then muted considerably.

Jenna spin kicked the boy, glancing off his hip as he dodged. He punched her shoulder, spinning her slightly round as she tried to regain her bearings and-

And found her staring into the glazed eyes of a dead corpse.

A new fury filled her, and she began attacking the child assassin with a fresh rage. She felt him falter slightly- saw a gap in his guard-

Her hands clenched around his throat with the intensity of a trained killer. She felt the boy start with surprise, then try and wriggle out of her hold; her red madness abated a little and she got him into a proper hold, choking him as hard as she could, ignoring his spluttered words.

His eyes fluttered close as he slowly began to lose consciousness. When he slumped down in a faint she loosed her hold for a second, and was about to tighten it again to choke him to death before he reared up and dislodged her. Before she could react, he was up and running.

She tore after him as he barged through the open door of the house and out into the woods that surrounded them. She stood panting at the edge, face wet with tears of anger, fists clenched. A name popped into her head; "I will get you, Alex Rider!" she screamed into the shivering darkness. "I will get revenge!"

Later, she trooped back into the house. Into the kitchen. Sank down next to the body of James, felt for a pulse with fumbling fingers even when it was obvious he was dead. Cried and cried and cried when she felt no faint tremor in his wrist.

Jenna sat for that for a few minutes, or an hour, clutching his cold, cold hand in hers, kissing his cold, cold lips, staring at the black hole in his forehead, so neat compared to the ravaged scape of shattered shards of skull and scarlet gloop that was the back of his head. Then she stood up, walked over to the table, where a half eaten sandwich and a sleeping laptop rested. She moved the mouse on the laptop; it sparked to life, presenting an email he was in the middle of composing. A shiver ran down her spine when she saw it was to her.

_Jenna, _she read. _Dear Jenna._

_I love you. I_

Then there was nothing else, a blank space on the screen, a blinking line next to the full stop where the next part of the email should go. Where there was nothing, and nor would there ever be, just like his life.

Because Alex Rider had ended it.

And she _would _get revenge.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc. _

Alex ran through the woods, breath rasping through his lungs, snatching blindly at anything that moved- thin branches snapping into him, the cold laying tentative fingers on his bones and tightening with a growl as the howling wind encouraged it, deeper and deeper until he was _shaking _as he ran.

He didn't dare stop until he was absolutely sure there were no sounds of pursuit behind him. He stopped to catch his breath, hunching over, air punching out of a damaged throat bruised from when that crazy bitch had tried to strangle him. He cautiously touched it, wincing when his fingers came in contact with the tender skin and thought, _dang, that's gonna bruise. _And then; _can't wait to hear what K and D Unit's have to say about this._

Because it most certainly would not be a; _Hey, Eel, how was the mission? Wanna go run the assault course? _No, more like, _hey Eel, where the fuck did you get that bruise on your throat?_

_What the _fuck? _You ASSASSINATED SOMEONE?!_

Oooh, he was definitely looking forwards to that.

A voice rang out somewhere far, far behind him. "I will get you, Alex Rider!" that crazy bitch. Dammit, she knew his name. _This wasn't good. _"I will get revenge!"

And when mad criminals shouted things like that after you it was for certain that the next few years of life wouldn't be a ride in the park.

A wave of exhaustion overtook Alex but the far away voice spurred him to run more into the woods, castings around wildly for some signal he was near human civilisation.

But- nothing. The thick canopy above hid the stars, the throngs of bushy trees around him blocked any sound or sight of a road or _something. _His communicator didn't have any signal and-

He'd trawled through the sewers, crawled up a pipe. Completed an assassination, successfully won a fight and got away from an experienced crazy bitch now out for his blood.

And then he had to go and get lost.

Karma was such a bitch.

**So, um, as it said above; happy birthday CoolerThanThouArt! Yeah, saw your comment and thought _why not? _**

**So. Alex. Completed an assassination, now Jenna's out for blood. I kinda feel sorry for her- but not much, knowing what she's going to do. Aw, the remainder of that makes me feel so sorry for Alex. **

**Summer holiday in two and a half days! I'm so excited! And apparently England is getting a heat stroke (meaning we'll have rain half the day instead of the whole day) so maybe I can actually get a tan. For once.**

**Anyway; going to Canada (yay!) on holiday in a week or so. Any of you guys going on holiday for the summer?**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Ok, so. All of the above I wrote yesterday, and was planning on updating after school today.**

**And then for no particular reason I woke up at 3 in the morning- it's five past 4 now- and couldn't get back to sleep. Spent an hour playing Doodle Jump (awesome game- I have sumo wrestler outfit!) then drank some cold coffee for a much needed caffeine shot. **

**Don't ask me WHY I needed a caffeine shot- I'm still working that one out myself.**

**And then I got hungry and heated up some cookies.**

**For five seconds. Then in a frantic and heroic rush, I pulled the plug out from the wall, slammed open the microwave and emptied everything onto the floor- which included these things;  
-A plate  
-Cookies (on the plate)  
-And a spoon.**

**Which is why I did the heroic rush thing. Because of the spoon. And unfortunately, it's not the first time I've done something like that.**

**And NO, I don't have a death wish.**

**...*coughs awkwardly*...**

**Ahem...Maybe I shouldn't have told you that.**

**No. Probably not. MOVING SWIFTLY ON- I'm trying to type softly so as not to wake other occupants in the house. Do you know how hard it is to type softly? It's- like- really hard! Really, really hard. Damnit these keys are loud. And I'm tired.**

**So...tired...**

**Actually, I'm not. I'm feeling the tiredness from about six hours later when I'm in school. Because I'll be so tired the tiredness pangs are going back to me, in the past.**

**...okay...**

**This is getting really weird. **

**Bye!**

**P.S. (even though this isn't a letter) WE REACHED 300 REVIEWS!**


	16. (16) Seize Who?

_Give me therapy_

_I'm a walking travesty_

_But I'm smiling at everything_

_Therapy_

_You were never a friend to me_

_And you can keep all your misery_

_-_**Therapy, by All Time Low**

(16) Seize who? - CHAPTER SIXTEEN

After being debriefed- a thoroughly exhausting and boring process Alex had always hated- he was dropped off back at Brecon Beacons in the middle of the night. He crept into his barracks, unpacked and fell asleep on his bunk.

Getting out of the woods had taken approximately five and a half hours, most of which was spent shinning up trees at the slightest sound of someone approaching. Actually, he hadn't even gotten out of the woods- he'd somehow travelled far enough that his communicator had gained a flickering, beautiful bar of signal and he was able to contact MI6 to pick him up. _Yes, _he'd gotten lost, he'd told the person in the helicopter. _No _he _wasn't stupid, _contrary to belief, and the woods were really thick and confusing and it wasn't like he'd been there before!

Bastards.

The missing gun had taken a bit of explaining and they hadn't believed him when he said the mission was done. Mrs Jones had intervened, though, and they'd written everything down (with infuriatingly blank expressions Alex wanted to rip right off their stupid smug faces) and assured him Jenna would probably be of no threat.

Likely story. Turned out Jenna was his target's lover and at the top of Scorpia. He'd be checking his back, waiting for her to get revenge, for at least the next twenty years.

Oh, and- he'd got dropped off at Brecon Beacons in a black car, with an old acquaintance going by the name of Thomas Radeling. He was pleased, in a sadistic sort of way, to see the man's eyes widen at his bruises but otherwise no comment was made.

He should enjoy what fun he could, Alex mused.

"Thomas." he'd said. "Thomas guess what I did? I was really brave. I went in a _big dark tunnel _and I climbed up the _big scary pipe -_oh wait. The pipe wasn't big, it was tiny. My bad. Anyway, so I went up the _small scary pipe- _hey, alliteration! I'm allergic to alliteration." he fake sneezed, and burst into laughter at his childish joke. "And then. And then I shot someone. There was lotsa blood and gore and stuff but I was really brave, I promise Mr. Big Man Driver." Alex wiped the pout of his face and stifled a moan as his throat- soar from the attempted strangulation- protested with a wail of pain. "Ow. Ow ow ow ow." he said, then figured it was best to stop talking because _damn _this really hurt. A lot.

He wanted to tell a joke (Knock knock? _Who's there? _Daisy. _Daisy who? _Dey see me rolling...dey hating!) but his throat had suffered all it could, so he fell asleep. Much to the relief of his driver.

But meh, he was sure he'd see the man again.

And now he was at Brecon Beacons. He should've felt relief at the familiar rolling hills, the ever present freezing fog (despite it being the middle of July) and the well known shapes of the barracks in the distance but instead all that came was weariness and the wish for a scarf to hide his all too prominent bruise on his throat.

He walked up to his barracks and sagged down on the bunk, sighing in relief that there was no one in there to have a confrontation with- just yet, anyway.

Five seconds later K Unit and D Unit trooped in, soaking and tired, with suddenly mad expressions on their face when they saw him.

"Eel!" Rat shouted, and punched him softly on the shoulder. "You bastard. Why the hell did you up and go?"

"I left a note." Alex said weakly, smiling at them- a motion that wasn't returned.

"And that makes it all ok, does it." Lion said sarcastically. Alex shrugged.

Personally, he thought yes.

"What happened to your throat?" Monkey asked interestedly, not as concerned as everyone else about his well being- a thing Alex was thoroughly glad about.

"Crazy bitch tried to strangle me." he said nonchalantly, smirking.

"So you overpowered her?" Monkey said, eyes alight with excitement.

"Um, no." Alex's smirk dropped off of his face. "I ran away."

Rat laughed. "Brave of you, I guess."

"She was head of Scorpia!" Alex protested, smiling.

Everyone froze. "What were you doing near a head of a terrorist organisation?"

Alex looked around, wincing, and sighed- looking back wistfully on the times it was okay to lie. "Iwasassassinatingherlover."

"Huh?"

"I. Was assassinating her lover?"

He didn't look up, didn't dare meet any of their accusing eyes. There was disgust in them, he knew, and maybe some fear and hatred- for who liked a child assassin? Who liked clear proof that kids aren't innocent?

"Alex." he felt a hand on his shoulder, but all he could think was that _they're really gonna start calling me Alex now? Really? _"It's okay. We're not judging you for any of this. It's all MI6's fault, not yours. Okay?"

He gulped, and opened his mouth to say something.

Flashbacks occurred mostly after something from his past came up. Maybe a flash of light on a muzzle and he was remembering something ages ago- and then a few hours or days or even weeks later, it would catch up and he'd have a flashback. Figures that after being literally bought back to square one- '6 blackmailing him to do what they wanted, which included killing a man in cold blood.

He shivered. _That _was why he cared so much about the assassination. He'd killed before, of course; but this was in cold blood. He'd never done that before.

Alex was crossing a new line and it was breaking him down even more.

So of course it came with consequences; and now _he wasn't going to beg he wasn't going to make a sound. He wouldn't show them any pain. He was stronge-NO no it hurt oh fuck fuck fuck get it away from him- "Tell us, Alex." Tell them what he didn't know anything please just stop- he wouldn't make a sound. He wouldn't give in. "Tell us and everything will be over." came the soothing voice, why couldn't he give in again? Why couldn't he just let go and end it?_

"_You'll- never...let...me go..." he managed to choke out through compressed lips, focusing on the __words not the pain not that burning pain._

"_No, but it is your choice; die like this, a slow and agonising death, with your corpse strung out on the desert dunes for lizards to creep and devour your rotting flesh, or a quick shot through the head and we will deliver your body back to your loved ones."_

_That was what gave him strength. Because he had no loved ones._

_He let out a harsh, grit filled breath through clenched teeth- in and out and in and out, oh god even breathing hurt. _

_The man in front, with pale skin and shiny black eyes that looked curiously inhuman through the haze of pain, shrugged at him and nodded to the man at his side, who pushed._

_He couldn't hold it any longer; he screamed._

"Alex. Eel, Eel wake up." The voices came into focus and he distantly heard the sound of someone screaming, a hoarse and painful sound that was painfully in tune to the one he'd screamed in his flashback.

He shut his mouth when he realised it was him.

God, he was such a _mess. _It would be better off for everyone if he just- if he just died.

That got him thinking. What was the point of living any more? What was the point of life like this; lived desperate stretches of doing disgusting things between flashbacks of the past and nightmares of the past and _why couldn't he get away from the past?_

He didn't want to die.

But maybe it was for the best.

"Eel." Monkey said. "You okay?"

He stood up, tried a strangled smile, brushed the dark thoughts from his mind. _Until later. _"Yeah. M'fine."

"Of course you're not." Snake said, glaring at him. "You were out for an hour in that- _flashback."_

"An hour?" he said, aghast. It had seemed like a couple of minutes, at the most.

"Yeah." Wolf smiled at him in a way that Alex knew was gonna be bad for him. "And in that time, we contacted MI6 and got you a therapist who has a higher level then you, so you can actually talk to her."

"You _what?"_ Alex turned to stare and Rat, Lion and Leopard, sitting on the bunk with cold expressions. He tried his best to convey a betrayed feeling.

"Don't look at us like that." Lion eventually said. "I know what we agreed, but things have changed. You're fifteen years old, Alex. That's not old enough to do any of this stuff, so we're trying to help you cope with it."

Alex exploded. "Ok, firstly things have not changed. I am the same person I was before, you just know a little more of it. And secondly, none of you have any sort of legal attachment to me so none of you can tell me what to do! And I can cope with it without the help of a fucking _therapist! _AND WOULD YOU STOP CALLING ME ALEX!?"

He stormed out of the barracks, slamming the door behind him.

It opened behind him and Eagle peered out. "That rant just proved your teenager-ly-ness!" he shouted. "And therapist appointment is in two hours!"

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc. _

"Alex Rider." the woman greeted as he slouched down onto the chair in front of her. "Nice to meet you. I'm Shahena Dowe."  
He saw her reach out her hand for him to shake, but couldn't be sure that she was because he was staring at his hands and had sworn to himself he wouldn't look up.  
"Well, let's start with some simple word association tests."  
Word association? He could do that. After MI6 had forced him into numerous therapy sessions he'd taken out as many therapy handbooks as he could from the library, spending days pouring over them. He'd memorized all the techniques, and had especially focused on the word association tests, training himself to say things which would mean his state of mind was sound.  
(Which it was.)  
"Ok. After I say each word, I'll be expecting you to respond with a word. I want you to answer as quickly as possible with the first word that occurs to mind. Head."  
_Assassination target. _"Tail."  
"Red."  
_Blood. _"Blue."  
"Life."  
_Full of crap. _"Birth."  
"Knife."  
_Weapon. _"Fork."  
"Hand."  
_Severed. _"Foot."

"Alex." she said. "These aren't the first words that come to mind. In fact, they're in the master list of words that you are expected to say."  
He frowned. "Isn't that good?"  
"No, because I know that you've memorized the master list, which means none of your responses are true."  
He shrugged, hid a smirk. "Busted."  
"Alex, I'm just trying to help. I've seen your file. I know a bit of what you've been through. Talk to me."  
Ok.

She wanted to talk? Fine.

"Do you have a family?"  
"Yes. My husband died, and I have a four year old daughter."  
"Oh." he was expecting her to turn it back on him somehow, but she gave the facts readily and with clear pain in her eyes at the mention of her husband. "I'm sorry."  
"It's ok. I can't say I'm over it, but my daughter and work is helping me. Tell me about your family."  
So she did manage to turn it back on him. His mouth twisted savagely. "I don't have one."  
"Really? Parents?"  
"Dead."  
"No other family?"  
"Yeah, an uncle, but he's dead as well."  
"Oh...so who was looking after you before you turned eighteen? Were you in a children's home?"  
"Eighteen? I'm fifteen."  
Well, they had said she had high clearance. He could tell her anything, right? He saw Shahena's eyes widen in shock, and she leaned forwards. "And what are you doing in the most elite branch of the army?"  
"Well, that's not my only job. I'm also working for MI6. Anyway, I thought you'd said you'd seen my file?"  
"I haven't." Shahena confessed. "Someone's wiped your records. I just said that because otherwise you wouldn't let anything slip."  
"Oh." he smirked at her. "Well. Yeah."  
"Ok." she leant back. "So who's looking after you, when you're not pretending to be an adult in the army and secret service?"  
"I'm only pretending to be an adult in SAS." Alex corrected. "Everyone knows I'm fifteen in MI6."  
"Answer the question."  
"No one. I had a guardian after my uncle died, but she's dead as well. Then I had a foster family, but they decided I was too fucked up to be included in their happy little family so they kicked me out. Then I went to live with a couple of agents from '6 but two died on a mission and the other two dragged me into a mental institute." His voice was harsh and unforgiving, chanting out the facts as if they didn't apply to him. "Now, the only people who care for me are some friends in SAS- they're the ones who contacted you about being my therapist- and they're too good for me. I don't deserve them. My foster family had the right idea, and I'm just waiting until they realise that too and betray me."  
He looked at her in surprise. "I didn't even know I felt like that, until I just said it." he said conversationally.

His therapist closed her eyes in shock at the information divulged- but at her clearance level, she'd heard it all, so she got back to work quickly. "Alex, I'm sure that's not true." Shahena said gently. "Tell me why you think you're... mentally unstable."  
His expression showed confusion.  
"Fucked up." she clarified.  
A hint of amusement showed in his eyes at her swearing. Then he erected a cold screen over it, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I have nightmares. About stuff I've done."  
"Plenty of people have nightmares. There's nothing wrong with that."  
"No, but they seem... I dunno. Real. I wake up as if I haven't slept at all, and I remember everything from the nightmare that before I'd worked so hard to forget. And that's not all. I get these... um, these flashbacks as well. Basically reliving things... things that I've done, or had done to me...and I go into the past for however long it is and I think it's real." Alex flinched at the hoarse desperation in his voice, realising he was relying on this woman to help him reclaim his mind- because if she didn't... "And it just happens, out of nowhere. One second I'm cleaning a gun, the next I'm being tortured in a cave and I'm about to die. I can't even tell the difference, not until after, and then it's...I've had the flashbacks for ages now. I thought they were getting better. I could see both the flashback and the real world, I could pull myself into the real world with maybe some help from my unit or whatever. But I just did a mission. And I had another flashback. It lasted an hour, the longest it's ever done, and I was completely submerged in it... I didn't even have a flicker that it might not be real. I think... I think I'm getting worse. And I'm scared." he admitted quietly. "They're trying to help me, my friends in SAS. The flashback made them contact you. But I'm scared that soon they're gonna realise that I'm a lost cause, and do just what my foster family did. And I'll be alone. Again." He bit his lip. "If I'm alone, I'm just going to... I don't know. But I know it's gonna happen. And I know I'm going to die, somewhere out there, choking on my own blood with no one there. And no one will care that I'm dead. Because I've pushed them all away."

He shook his head. "Sorry. That was confusing, even to me. Um, can we talk about something else?"  
She smiled at him. "That was good, Alex. But we need to talk about something. Your friends are never going to abandon you. From what you've told me, and what I heard when I talked to them, they really care about you. There is nothing wrong with you that can't be fixed, okay? And I promise you will not die in a long, long time, and when you do it will be surrounded by your kids holding your hand and saying goodbye."  
"Yeah, whatever." Alex shrugged, unimpressed at the sappy ending of her invigorating little speech. "Can you stop the flashbacks?"  
"Yes. I can try, anyway. But now is the end of our session, so next time We'll work on techniques to help you get out of the flashbacks."

Alex smiled at her, a boyish expression that made her see how young he was- a brief murmur of pain at his youthful experiences went through her heart- and stood up, scraping the chair back. "Thank you." he said honestly. "I didn't think you'd help at all. But you really have."  
He walked towards the door. "Alex?" she said.  
"Yeah?"  
"You're going to be okay. I promise."  
He ducked his head, waving at her in thanks before going out, and almost smiling because he finally believed that maybe that was true.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc. _

Shahena looked at the recording in her hand.

She recorded all sessions with her clients, going over them late at night in her office in case there were things she'd missed. And she'd found they didn't like her writing down things in front of them, so she'd take notes from the recordings.

But. This recording opened up an option.

Alex's SAS friends might care for him, but she thought that maybe they needed to know what Alex really thought. To help him. Maybe, if she gave them this recording- with Alex's worries about them, about everything- they could help him, more than she could. There were some things he wouldn't divulge, she knew. Some things that even a therapist couldn't deal with, but maybe his friends could.

Would it betray the trust between them? Tentative as it was, she didn't want to do it any harm... so, she'd have to call in the men without Alex, show them the recording and tell them not to tell him.

Ok. She'd do that.

Some of the things Alex had told her, about working for MI6, and them _knowing _he was under-age made her blood boil. Was there anything Shahena could do about that?

No. Not yet, anyway.

She'd keep trying.

**Gah, that therapist bit... so sappy... it's meant to show he's healing. He's getting better.**

**The chapter title was kind of a pun. Um. Not really. But kind of. So 16 (this is chapter sixteen? Woah...) in French is 'seize', which is pronounced kinda like 'says', so it's like 'says who?' except 'seize who?' so I can include sixteen in the chapter title. And on the subject of chapter titles; help, please. Any ideas you have, which include the numbers in any form of pun, rhyme, chant, etc. (see former chapter titles for examples) please review. I need from 17 to about... 40. Thanks!**

**And. These few chapters will be a kind of rest for Alex. Up until about chapter 20 his life is gonna go relatively well. Things are gonna seem to get better. Which is why I put in the therapist bit (NOO! DROWNING IN HORRIBLE FLUFF!) so you could, like, see that his life is taking a turn for the better. Lots of stuff will be resolved, everyone will be smiling, you're maybe gonna think it's the end because everything's turning out so well.**

**Then they're gonna plummet down in a horrible twist you'll all hate me for and everything will go to hell.**

**Yeah. Um...*coughs awkwardly* you've got that to look forwards to. **

**Finally; WHOO! SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMMMEERRRR! (Yes, it's currently pouring outside, and I can hear thunder. But the rain stopped for about five seconds which I guess counts for summer in England).**

**Don't forget to review! (And check out Cruel, Hard World if you haven't already, which I will soon be updating.)**


	17. The Unforeseen 17

I can't hold on  
To what I want when I'm stretched so thin  
It's all too much to take in  
I can't hold on  
To anything watching everything spin  
With thoughts of failure sinking in

-**By Myself, by Linkin Park **

Shahena tapped her fingers nervously on the edge of the desk.

The doctor-patient confidentiality was something sacred, something she was at loath to break. But even one session with the boy had showed her that a stranger wouldn't get through to him. She needed outside help to heal what was inside him; she could help him learn to control his flashbacks, get over the memories, but ultimately it wouldn't fix him.

The door opened and seven men walked in, frowns on their faces and glares directed to her. "Hi. I'm Shahena Dowe. The therapist you contacted for Alex."

"Right." the big, burly man who seemed to be their leader said harshly. "So how comes you called us here, and not Alex?"

She hesitated. "I need to show you something. About Alex."

"Does he want you to show us?" A well built, sandy haired man piped up from the back. "I'm Rat, by the way."

"Hi, Rat. And no, he doesn't. But I think it would be most beneficial-"

"Ok! Show us!"

A dark, scrawny looking man nudged 'Rat' with raised eyebrows. "You're taking the blame if he finds out." he hissed.

Rat smiled. "No sweat. I can take on a kid, any day."

"Sure, whatever." The man said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture but with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Rat glared at him.

Shahena coughed to get their attention, then put the recording on.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc._

Alex finished dismantling the gun and slammed a hand down on the timer. He looked at his new record; thirty two seconds. "Yes!" he shouted. "I did it! Take that, you stupid world!" He stood up, ignoring the chair which skidded behind him and tipped over, and slammed a hand down on the table. "Seven seconds above world record. I can do that. I can beat that."

He sat down at the table and picked up the pieces of gun to reassemble them, setting the timer back to zero.

Then he put his head on the table and groaned because he was so fucking bored.

"Why did they have to go? What did they need to do that I couldn't as well?" he said mournfully to the table. "How long does it take to do whatever they're doing? Why is this so boring?"

Last time this had happened was history class, four periods before he officially quit school. It wasn't that it was too easy- he was so far behind on everything that the teachers had given up trying to teach him, so he'd given up trying to learn and had fallen asleep most lessons. But that lesson- the history teacher had this horrible squeaky voice that kept him up, so he had to stare at his sheet of lined paper and try not to scream.

"Hey, Eel." Zebra smiled, coming into the weaponry room Alex was until then alone in. "You busy?"

"No." Alex smiled at Zebra. Part of L Unit, he was a good laugh and easy going, friends with most of the camp. He'd trained with them a couple of times a few months ago. "Why?"

"Sergeant wants to talk to you. You gotta go to his office."

Alex groaned. "If I said I was busy, would you still have told me that?"

"Yup. I was just saying that to be polite."

"Great. Thanks then, I guess." Alex stood up and walked out of the weaponry room, navigating his way across Brecon Beacons to the sergeant's office. He knocked on the door and walked into the room at the gruff "Come in." from inside, sitting down in front of the head of the barracks. "Um. You wanted me, sir?"

"Eel." the sergeant's face creased as he stared at him for a moment, Alex fidgeting under the scrutiny. "MI6 contacted me. They said they want you to work for them."

Alex hesitated. "Me?"

"Yes. They recruit a lot of guys from SAS- your partner unit, K Unit, had a guy called Fox who's now in MI6. But...there's something different about you."

"Sir?"

"They want you to stay here, stay in your unit and still go out with missions for them, at the same time."

"Oh." Alex said. This was old news. That was what he was doing anyway; they must have wanted to get the sergeant involved in it, in case he started to question things. "Um, yeah. Sure."

The sergeant's eyes narrowed. "They also asked me to pass on your first mission."

First mission? So he was doing another one, then?

"Congratulations, Eel." he sergeant said, clapping him round the shoulder. "You're taking a holiday to Rio de Janeiro. Going undercover in the Mafia for a year."

And all of a sudden Alex's boredom was thoroughly and completely extinguished, leaving him with one thought; _oh, fuck. _

.

.

.

Alex put the gun together and checked his time.

One minute, thirty five seconds. Not bad.

He dismantled it with swift hands and started cleaning it mechanically for the fifth time in a row, staring moodily at the gleam on the outer parts. He'd wandered round the barracks for maybe half an hour, before realising the news about his mission hadn't changed anything in the present and there was still nothing to do without his unit but dismantle guns. And clean them. And put them back together. And then dismantle them again. And time it all and purposely do a bunch of crappy times like one minute and thirty five seconds and tell himself that that was good and then do an amazing time and feel a false sense of satisfaction because he'd done so well, which was emphasised by the crappy times before, and then do the whole thing over again.

The clock hands ticked their way agonizingly slow around the clock face. He tried not to look at it, because then he'd see only a few minutes had passed from when he last looked at it and that was _ages _ago.

Rio de Janeiro. A year.

A year?

A whole year...

He was leaving for it in two days.

He was going to miss his birthday.

It was the fake birthday of Thomas Smith, but whatever. He was still going to miss it.

It _wasn't fair. _

Why him?

Why was fate so obsessed with screwing his life up?

Every time he thought it was going to get better... a year. How could he survive a year in a different country, pretending to be someone else, speaking a different language- doing things just to stay in character, horrible, disgusting things...

"Eel?" A hand clapped onto his shoulder. "We're back."

He didn't even bother to look round, putting down the pieces of gun that he was holding and stopping the timer. "Hi." he said in a doomed-are-we voice. "What did you have to do." And it was meant to be a question, but his voice was so depressingly glum it came out as a flat, uncaring statement.

"Um...Eel." Monkey said, frowning at him. "Everything okay?"

"Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be okay?" his voice got steadily higher. "I am completely okay. Everything is okay. This whole crappy world that loves jerking me around is okay. I'm okay with missions. Yup. Here to help Alex. It's okay, I'll lick your boots and shut up and go on stupid missions to Rio and it's all fucking okay!"

He stormed out, pushing through the horde of mystified SAS men, slamming the door behind him and stalking off into the woods.

"Did anyone understand that?" Snake said, looking round at the others. "I got...um... nah, I got nothing."

"Something happened." Rat said knowledgeably.

"Obviously." scoffed Lion. "A lot of things happened."

"...That was such a bad comeback."

"I was busy."

"Talking?"

"I am not getting sucked into one of your childish arguments."

"Childish? Me? Eel's the one who's having all these teenager sulky rants."

"I think I caught the word Rio. And mission." Leopard said thoughtfully.

"He's going on a mission to Rio?" Wolf asked.

"Or there's a guy called Rio who just phoned him to break up 'cause they were dating and now he's really upset and he's _mishing _him." Eagle whispered conspiratorially, looking pleased with himself at the reasonable conclusion.

"Mishing? Oh, mission. Missin. Mishin. Missing! I get it. Nice one." Rat grinned. They fist bumped.

"Why is it a guy?" said Snake.

"Huh?" Eagle asked.

"Why is it a _guy _called Rio? I thought Eel was straight?"

"Yeah, so did I. But I also thought he was twenty three and had gone to university and had never been shot."

"Touché."

"Yup."

"We still have to talk to him about the stuff he said. With the therapist."

"We have to?" Rat whined. "It's gonna be so mushy! That's why we hired a therapist, isn't it? To talk to him about his feelings?"

"You're the one that wanted to listen to the recording!"

"Yeah, but it was too depressing."

"The kid's had a depressing life."

Rat turned on Lion slowly. "What is it with you and these really obvious, shitty comebacks?"

Lion blushed (manly.) "Shut up."

"Come _on. _Let's go and talk to Eel."

"But we don't know where he is!"

"Woods."

Everyone looked at Leopard. "How'd'you know that?"

He tapped his nose. "I have my ways."

"Bet you five quid he's not in the woods." Rat hedged.

"I'm not Eel. I don't do foolish bets." A pause. "Make it ten."

"Done."

They walked out of the room before Wolf remembered; "The equipment!" With much swearing, the bags were hurriedly picked up and strapped onto everyone- it was plan B, in case plan A didn't work, which it most likely wouldn't.

They trooped off to the woods, taking the main trail that wound round most of it, which Eel had probably gone down. They found him sitting in a clearing, eating berries from a bush and staring at a huge, colourful beetle that was crawling across his hand.

"Damn you." Rat swore. Alex looked up, a berry in hand.

"What? And how did you know I was here?"

Rat reluctantly handed over a tenner to Leopard, who smirked and pocketed it. K Unit and three fourths of D Unit joined Alex, settling around the clearing, sitting on the strewn logs and making themselves comfortable on pieces of moss. Rat opened his mouth to say something deep and comforting but then asked; "Are those berries poisonous?"

"These?" Alex looked at the violet specimen in his hand. "Yeah."

"Wha- but- you-"

"I'm so depressed I'm trying to commit suicide." Alex said dryly, popping another berry in his mouth and chewing it slowly.

Everyone froze. Then chaos as they leaped on him and tried to prise the handful of berries from his hand.

Alex struggled free of the chaos and swung onto the bottom branch of the tree, clinging to it and staring at the mass of bodies with a horrified fascination. "Jeez, guys! Stop! It was a joke!"

They slowly sat back in their places and craned their necks to look up at him, as he quickly shinned up to the next branch lest they try anything. "Oh." Rat said. "S'just- you're depressed. We thought you were actually trying to commit suicide."

"Depressed?" Alex frowned. "Who said anything about that?"

They shifted and mumbled something.

"What?"

"Come down." Wolf said, louder. "Our necks hurt."

"What has that got to do with anything?" Alex asked, but got down anyway, sitting in his old spot next to the bush and eating more berries.

Everyone stiffened, watching him, but made no move to do anything.

Alex sighed and picked up a new beetle, watching it run up his arm and putting his other hand there to pick it up before it could go under his sleeve. It scurried madly across his skin, with seemingly no idea of what was happening, running up and up and up.

It was kinda depressing.

"Eel." Leopard told him.

"Mmhm."

"We went to talk with your therapist."

"You WHAT?"

"Ah... nothing. He said nothing." Rat said hurriedly.

Everyone glared at him. "Coward."

"Ok, fine, we did."

Eel muttered something about stupid everyone nothing didn't know depression who knew what, but it was all kinda confusing so they didn't really listen.

"So." he said, once he'd finished his muttered rant. "What did you talk about?"

"You."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Elementary, my dear Watson."

"Shut up."

"Don't speak like that to your elders!"

"Are we talking in terms of age or intelligence?"

"I'm your elder in both."

"...Sorry, you're really not."

"Am."

"Not."

"Am."

"Stop, Rat! Don't you see? Fox always used to do this. It's one of these spy things; they talk about other stuff to distract you and then they're gone. _Don't let him get away with it."_

"Anyone ever told you you're a little paranoid?"

'Just because you aren't paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you'."

"Is that a quote from somewhere?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"The way you said it. And anyway, it doesn't even fit in with the context of this conversation."

"Does too!"

"Does not."

"Does too!"

"Stop! He's doing it again! The evil-spy-distract thingy."

"Deep breaths, everyone. Let's stop arguing and approach this sensibly."

"Ok."

"Kay."

"Whatever."

"Sure."

"Yup."

"Uh huh."

"Okay."

"Sounds good."

"Eel. Alex. The therapist told us...about...we're not going to abandon you."

Alex gave a wan half smile. "Yeah, I know."

"And... we know a lot of people in your life have died." The air was tense with nostalgia and loss, memories and a tang of salty hope. "And I'm gonna be truthful. SAS isn't just a ride in the park. We might die too. But there's seven of us, and we're all going to look after you, no matter what. You're like the annoying kid brother we never wanted."

"Aw, thanks." Alex said sarcastically, but he was smiling.

"And you're funny. You're clever. Anyone who'd let you go, push you away is an idiot. And we're many things, but we're not idiots."

"Debatable."

"I'm trying to be sappy here, don't ruin it."

"Right."

"And," Rat piped in. "You don't deserve us, but-"

"Shut up, Rat. This is an emotional moment."

"Yeah, thanks, guys." Alex said, with that same wistful part smile. "I don't feel like committing suicide with poisonous berries any more."

"Um, that's good."

"Yeah." Alex shook his head, brushed the beetle off his arm and abruptly stood up. "I gotta go."

"Eel? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He started walking. "Nothings wrong. Bye."

"Eel!" Monkey grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, spinning him round. "What the fuck is wrong?"

Alex hesitated. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Tell us." Wolf threatened, giving him a killer glare.

"I- I'm going on another mission. To Rio de Janeiro."

"I told you he wasn't breaking up with a guy called Rio!" Rat hissed.

"Huh?" Alex said, perplexed.

"He said you're gay." Rat said, pointing at Eagle.

"I thought a guy called Rio had broken up with you! And you were 'mishin' him." Rat and Eagle snickered.

"No!" Snake said loudly, causing everyone to look at him with their eyebrows raised. "He's doing it again! The spy thing! Where he avoids telling us anything by distracting us- _don't let him get away with it!"_

"They started it." Alex frowned. "He called me gay."

"Are you?" Snake said, momentarily off subject.

"No."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Mission in Rio?" Wolf interrupted.

"Right." Alex wilted. "It's- um- it's a year long."

He took in their shocked faces and sighed, sitting back down and placing his head in his hands. "I have to do it." he said, voice muffled. "But a year? I can't- I just don't- it doesn't matter, anyway. There's nothing I- we- can do about it."

Ten seconds pause (Monkey counted.) Then Monkey stood up and shouted, "EVERYONE! INITIATE PLAN A! READY PLAN B MATERIALS IN CASE OF PROBABLY FALIURE OF PLAN A!"

"What?" Alex said. No one else looked confused, all of them standing up and shuffling around in huge bags. "What're those bags for? What are you doing?"

"Alex." said Rat. "Or Eel. We are getting you out. You're gonna disappear from MI6 and SAS, and you're going to get a new life as a normal teenager. With us."

Alex shook his head sadly. "Sorry guys. I know you mean well, but-"

Monkey stood up again. "PLAN A DIDN'T WORK! AS YOU JUST SAW! EVERYONE INITIATE PLAN B!"

"Sorry, Eel." Rat said mournfully, and punched him round the face.

Alex toppled, but quickly recovered, coming up in fighting stance but not making any move to strike just yet. "Guys?" he said uncertainly.

He spun around, as if sensing Snake behind him and ducked another punch. When Monkey punched on him and tried to get him into a hold he started to completely put himself in the fight, kicking and punching and giving out ruthless punishment- but holding back, just that tiny bit, thinking _they've betrayed me?_

_The only people left, and they've betrayed me?_

But something was off, about the whole thing-

He elbowed Lion aside and tried to run, but was caught from behind by a pair of strong hands. He struggled for a second before a rag was placed over his mouth, smelling suspiciously of chloroform.

He held his breath as long as he could, lashing out and trying to release his arms from the hold but then had to

And everything went grey.

**Any ideas on what the _fuck _just happened? **

**These chapters are so fun to write. So easy. I like writing light stuff. **

**That's why you're getting this chapter really quick. You'll probably have a chapter tomorrow, as well. And the day after that. And then it will be chapter twenty, which I can confirm will be the chapter everything's going to hell.**

**As many of you said in reviews, I'd advise you to enjoy it while you can. **

**Ahem. Anyway. Top of this chapter; Linkin Park. Awesome band. I spent ages trying to choose between a load of lyrics of theirs. They are really awesome. **

**And; I have a rope swing in my garden. It's basically a piece of rope and a pole tied to a really high branch on a steeply sliding slope. You climb to the top, get on the pole and swing. It's freaking scary. So I was on the rope swing, and then some foolish thing put an idea in my head for this chapter, but I wanted to stay on the rope swing, so I sat on the rope swing and got my laptop and tried to swing while typing.**

**It's a shared laptop. My house is now full of people mad at me 'coz I cracked the screen. **

_**Luckily **_**this is saved onto Google Drive (brilliant, that) so I was able to go to the library and finish the chapter there; I have a feeling I'll be spending a lot more time there, both to write chapters and hide from mad family members. **

**Yeah. Just thought I'd tell you that. **

**OMG DID I SAY THIS BEFORE? I PROBABLY SAID THIS BEFORE BUT WHATEVER. WE GOT OVER 300 REVIEWS! THREE HUNDRED FRICKING REVIEWS! I LOVE YOU GUYS!**

**But. Hmmm... I'm thinking. Okay; what do you guys think is best, keep going with this story or ending it on a happy note and doing a sequel? Please tell me!**


	18. 18 Wishes Almost True

When the night turns to the deepest shade of black  
At that point there is no reason to turn back  
High above angels are falling from the sky

Lift your heart knowing  
It's gonna be alright  
It's gonna turn out fine

-Hope, by Gerry Beckley

Wolf poked the sleeping boy nervously. "Isn't he meant to wake up yet?"

"No." Rat assured him. "That dose was strong enough to put him out for at least another day."

"You do know he's going to kill you when he wakes up." Leopard piped up.

"What do you mean, _you? _You're going down too, old friend."

"Not my idea."

"You still participated."

"But-"

"No."

"But-"

"I _said _no."

"Fine. It was worth a try." he said morosely.

Both men stared at the form of Alex, knowing all too well what was in store for them.

"Should we..." Monkey winced as all the gazes swung onto him, but ploughed on. "Um...tie him up? Or just restrain him a little? Until we explain things?"

"No!" Rat said fiercely. "He's my friend! You'll have to get through me first!"

"Fine." Wolf shrugged. "Then we're blaming it on you."

Rat moved hastily aside. "I'll get the rope."

All of them were trained on how to tie knots in rope; none of them ever thought they'd have to use it on Eel, but still they skilfully tied him wrists and ankles together, and bound him loosely to the bench he was lying on. There. He was still gonna kill them when he woke up but now maybe they'd have a chance to explain- nah, who were they kidding? People were going to die the second Eel woke up, that was for sure.

They loitered around the hut, Eagle running back to the barracks to get some food to roast on a fire, and Rat snagging some cards which they sat in a circle with and played. The games were long, by the flicker of candlelight- no one had yet installed electric lights in this hut, a rickety thing in the middle of the woods which they had stumbled across when scouting the area in preparation for the kidnapping.

Ahem. Not exactly... _kidnapping, _just...

Yeah.

They took turns on the watch. Leopard and Lion went first and the others fell asleep on the floor behind them. They glared keenly into the gloom, scanning for any movement in the desolate forest that surrounded them. At night it was full of rustling shadows and pale, spidery branches catching the light of the moon like ominous fingers grasping towards their prey; owls hooted in the treetops, long wails of stomach churning sound, both beautiful and eerie compared to the daytime twitters of birds. "What are we even looking for?" Lion asked Leopard, a hint of tiredness in his voice. "We're in a woods, in Brecon Beacons for god's sake. A bunch of assassins aren't exactly gonna jump out at us."

Leopard turned to him, eyes wide and luminous in the halting light. "Yeah. But what about the bears?"

"Bears?" Lion said uncertainly.

"Uh huh. Didn't you know? There's loads in these woods, and they've acquired a taste for human flesh after this guy was shot accidentally in a training exercise, and they were found feasting on his body."

Lion rolled his eyes at him. "Whatever, Leopard. We're not kids."

Leopard shrugged and smiled. "You believed me at first, admit it."

"Up until when you said 'acquired a taste for human flesh' because that sounded to ghost-story-like."

"Aw, shame." Leopard paused. "Want to hear a ghost story?"

Lion scanned the shadows again, felt bored, turned to Leopard and nodded.

"Okay." Leopard's voice lowered to a whisper. "Did you ever hear about the _old, empty barn_?"

Lion shook his head.

Leopard paused for effect.

"It was empty."

Lion laughed. "Aw, that was crap, Leopard."

He shrugged. "It passed the time, didn't it? Shall we wake up someone else?"

"We've only done half an hour!"

"I get tired easily. And it's not like they have to know that- not until we wake them up."

"At which point they'll go mad."

"Has anyone got a watch?"

"No, we're going by that digital clock in the hut- why?"

Leopard crept inside the hut. Lion, mystified, followed.

He took off the digital clock and pressed the light button. Then the reset button, and put it forwards half an hour. "There!" he said, pleased, putting it back. "Kay, who shall we wake up next?"

"Eh...I pick Eagle."

"Monkey."

They woke up their respective people and explained in hushed whispers it was their go. "That didn't feel like an hour." Monkey said blearily, brushing the sleep from his eyes. Leopard stifled a smirk and shrugged at him. "You're doing it with Eagle."

"Fine. Gah, I'm getting up."

He got up, shook the creases out of his clothes, thought mournfully of pyjamas and settled himself outside the hut in preparation for Eagle. Eagle came up, settled beside him and fell asleep.

Monkey poked his team member angrily on the shoulder. "Eagle! Wake up!"

"Hunh? Oh...'m wakin' up..."

"We got an hour to do this thing."

"Do what?"

"Stare into the woods."

"Why?"

"Because we're on watch."

"Why do _we _have to be on watch?"

"Because we're all taking goes!"

"I wanted to go last!"

"Well, you're second."

"But I'm tired!"

"Remember, this is for the good of Eel."

"He's gonna murder us for it." Eagle said, leaning comfortable back against the hut.

"He'll realise it's for his own good."

"What, kidnapping him?"

"Yup. I mean, how else would he get away from '6?"

"I thought they're blackmailing him?"

"Jeez, don't you remember any of what we went over with Shahena?"

"Nope."

"Shit. How did you get into SAS again?"

"I was younger..."

"By four years? Wow, big difference."

"Ha ha. Tell me how we're going to get around MI6 blackmailing him again?"

"Well, they're blackmailing him with _us. _So we're going to get Mrs Jones and tell her exactly what we think of that."

"And she cares because..."

"If she doesn't let Eel go, we'll release details of MI6's illegal using of a teenager to the media."

"Won't she just kill us?"

"We'll tell her we have outside sources waiting to reveal the information independently the moment we disappear. So she can go through what she threatened to Eel, but then we'll release it to the media and the world will go crazy; or she can kill us all, the world will still know about it and go crazy. The only thing to do is let Eel go."

"I bet you Eel can find about a million holes in that plan."

"...why do you think he's knocked out?"

"Good point."

"Yup."

"How long has it been?"

"About half an hour."

"But I'm tired!"

"We only have half an hour left."

"Can't we just wake the next set of people up and pretend we've done our full hour?"

"What about the clock?"

"We can put it forwards half an hour."

Monkey shrugged. "Sounds good."

They crept into the hut, put the digital clock forwards half an hour, and woke up Rat and Wolf.

The two men slumped outside and stifled yawns as they watched the surrounding area and cursed those infuriating owls which never seemed to stop their wailing crescendos. "So." Wolf eventually said. "Any thought to what's happening after we get Eel freed from MI6's clutches?"

"Nope." Rat admitted. "I had some vague idea of entrusting him to my step dad- I've got a sister who's around the same age as him- but I'm not sure he'll agree to the idea."

"Because you're so sure he's happy with what's happening right now."

"Good point." Rat conceded. "When he wakes up, can't we just knock him out again? Give him time to...cool down."

"How about we leave _before _he wakes up, go deal with MI6 on our own back at the camp, at which time he'll wake up and be unable to move because we've tied him up, and then we can come back and everything will be sorted."

"Cowardly, but effective."

"When it comes to kidnapping Eel, those three words should be our motto."

"That is unfortunately so true."

They fell silent for a few moments, before Rat spoke again. "You met him before, didn't you? As Cub?"

Wolf shifted nervously. "...yes. He came to train a bit."

"What was he like?"

"Scrawny. Very quiet."

"So the complete opposite to what he is now."

"Nah, he's still scrawny. But the quiet bit, definitely. We thought he was stupid, actually, until..."

"Until?"

"He pushed me out of a plane and then a few months later I saw him snowboarding on an ironing board down a mountain."

Rat whistled, then his brain caught the first bit. "He pushed you out of a _plane?"_

"I was meant to jump. My parachute got snagged on something so he un-snagged it and pushed me out."

"...You mean, you were scared of heights and wouldn't jump out so Eel saved your career by pushing you out."

"How did you know?"

"I have my ways."

"He told you, didn't he?"

"..maybe. Yeah. But that's all he told me. You are keeping something from me."

"We were kind of bastards to him when he first came."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Coz he was a kid and all. No place on the battlefield, we thought."

"S'true, I guess."

"Yeah. Listen, you know that digital clock?"

"Uh huh."

"What do you say we put it forwards twenty minutes and wake the other people up now?"

"Ooh, crafty. Agreed."

It is a testament to SAS training that at the end of everyone's shifts, a full five hours and ten minutes had been put onto the clock, and not a single pair had done their full hour. Each pair was meant to do two hours each, the cycle meant to have been gone around twice respectively; it did, but rather faster than normal.

The alarm shrilled out at 3'o clock in the morning. The digital clock said it was 8. The sun had not yet risen, and for a moment a fear that the apocalypse was upon them strung through everybody.

The truth came out about the shifts, in much hesitatingly awkwardness, and they fell asleep for a few more hours until it was time to go to camp and face the Big, Scary Monster who was MI6.

Dun. Dun. DUN...

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc._

Mrs Jones rampaged through the camp, her red face contrasting with her neat business suit, handgun clenched tightly in manicured hand at odds with her perfectly coiffed hair. SAS soldiers watched in amusement and hid grins as she threw open doors and inspected each one of them, the scowl on her face growing with each disappointment. "Where is he?" she fumed. "It is leaving in five minutes! Where is that stupid boy?"

She stormed towards D Unit's barracks, throwing open the door and taking in the seven soldiers lounging inside. They looked up lazily when she came in, waved a hand and looked back down to the cards. She'd found them. Hah, there was Rat, Wolf, Lion. She'd found him! That little bastard wouldn't...seven...only seven... "Where is he?" she screamed.

She was only aware of someone behind her when the door shut. At the clang, the men stood up, hostile expressions on their faces as they glared at her and Rat started speaking, slowly and coldly. "Mrs Jones. Eel is no longer with us. He has run away and I am sure you will not ever see him again."

She glared. "I think he has told you what will happen if he doesn't come with me _right now."_

"Mm hmm. But see, I'm not sure Eel wants to come with you."

She shrugged. "I'm not sure that's his choice."

"No. It's ours. He has ran away, you will never see or hear from him again. If you attempt to make contact with him we will reveal files to the media proving what you've done to him; the public will be in uproar, you know that. If, by some chance, all seven of us happen to disappear we have contacts outside who will not hesitate to reveal everything the second we go missing. Do you understand?"

"It's you who doesn't understand." she hissed venomously. "Do you know what he's done? He's broken. That boy is mad. I don't know what you're planning, but soon he's going to go down and he's taking every single one of you with him."

Rat shrugged. "We don't care. Offer's still there; you take it or leave it. Quit searching for Eel and we'll stay quiet, or try and get him again or do something to us or our families and we'll release the information we have."

Her eyes grew wild. "Fine. I'll leave Eel alone. But you-" she poked a finger towards Rat. "Are getting kicked out of the SAS, for disobeying orders and not doing the best for your country, whether you like it or not."

Rat crossed his arms and stared at her coolly. "Agreed. Now get out of here, bitch."

With one last scowl she spun on her heel and stalked out of the camp.

"Dammit, Rat." Lion said, looking sadly at him. "Why'd you agree to that? You're out of the SAS!"

"I had to give her something, or she wouldn't agree." Rat sighed. "And besides, this is the best way. I'll take a course in uni to become a fully qualified doctor and look after Alex while I'm doing it; then I'll become a proper doctor or join some special army force as a medic, like the RAF or something."

"You sure you're okay with that?" Leopard said uncertainly.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" Rat stated. "Like I said, it's for the best."

"Great. S'only me and you left now, Lion." Leopard said mournfully. Wolf looked thoughtful.

"You did know there's up to six members allowed in a unit under special circumstances, right?"

"What's that got to do with anything... oh."

"Yup. Wanna join K Unit, boyos?"

Lion looked at Leopard and they shrugged at each other. "Why not?"

"Guess that's it, then. D Unit's gone."

There was a moment of silence as they mourned the untimely death of their unit.

Then; "Oh shit, Alex."

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc._

Alex woke up tied to a bench.

The rope chafed at his wrists, he had a massive headache, his body ached all over like he'd been in a fight with seven bulky men, all intent on pummelling him into the ground...

Oh wait, he had.

He ran his mind over the confrontation. They didn't betray him, right? They'd seemed almost apologetic when they laid into him, and he'd noticed all pulling back their blows to stop doing any real harm- and then there was all that crap Monkey was shouting, about 'PLAN A' and 'PLAN B' and 'INITIATE PLAN'...which meant they'd planned it. Before he'd blacked out, a chloroform soaked rag had been placed over his mouth- Wolf had done that, he noted breifly.

He was gonna kill them. All of them. As gruesomely and painfully as he could. What were they thinking? Was it some huge joke they were all part of that Rat and Eagle had planned or something? Or maybe they were trying to be heroic and do something stupid like attempt to get MI6 off his back?

Nah, they weren't that stupid. Thank god.

But MI6...mission... dammit, his mission! It was leaving today!

A quick glance at the digital clock- he was late! He was so fricking late he could just imagine Mrs Jones storming round the camp in a tailored suit and red face, while SAS snickered behind their hands and threats whirled in her mind. He tugged at his bonds impatiently but true to form they were too well tied to give any slack. He could only shuffle around a millimetre or so because a rope was looped around his waist, tying him to the bench, and _god _that bench was uncomfortable. Sure, he was a spy and soldier and capable of sleeping on hard surfaces but that didn't mean he _liked _it, and this bench was harder then most. It was made of fucking steel, man. Who made a bench of steel? Especially in a wooden hut that looked as if it was about to fall down any second.

Where was he, anyway? He didn't recognise this from anywhere around the camp- had they driven him out, then? Was he even still in the country? A faint throbbing in his head reminded him he'd been drugged and possibly out for days- plenty time to go somewhere on the other side of the world.

Those bastards.

He heard a noise outside and stilled, closing his eyes instinctively to make it look as if he was still unconscious. There was a jangle of keys outside and someone cussed someone else, then the door swung open.

"He's still asleep? Shouldn't the drugs have worn off by now?"

Alex relinquished any self control and opened his eyes, directing a filthy glare at the seven men shuffling into the hut and starting to sit down. "You drugged me. You bastards. Where the hell am I?"

"Still in the woods of Brecon Beacons."

"And why the fuck did you tie me up? And- why were you all attacking me in the woods?"

Snake said sheepishly, "To the first, we wanted you to give us time to let us explain before you killed us-"

"I'm still gonna kill you." Alex interrupted.

"And to the second- so we could drug you."

"And why did you want to drug me?!"

"So we could kidnap you."

"And why- ach, forget it. Just get these ropes off, they're killing me."

"Sorry." Rat said apologetically. "But you still haven't cooled off. We haven't got a death wish, yet."

Alex growled.

"Explain, then."

"Um, so. We made a plan, which was to talk to you about this and get you to agree. In the woods we started to, but you were so obviously against it we had to resort to plan B."

"So that's the crap you were shouting." Alex said to Monkey, who grinned and gave a thumbs up.

"Plan B was to knock you out and bring you out here. We stayed the night and just now we went into camp, to meet MI6."

"YOU WHAT?!"

"Hey, hear us out. So we told them we'd reveal everything about your missions if they didn't let you go, and that you were going to disappear anyway. It worked. You're free, Eel."

Alex looked aghast. "Do you know what-"

"It worked, didn't it? Unfortunately, it also meant Rat's out of SAS."

Alex looked at Rat. "You did that for me?" he asked. Rat nodded. "Fine. I won't kill you slowly. You, I'll do fast; the rest slowly."

There were some nervous laughs, but Alex looked completely serious.

"Ah, moving on;" Leopard said. "So this is what's happening now; me and Lion are joining K Unit. You and Rat are renting an apartment in London while Rat goes to uni and you go to school."

"School?" he squeaked.

"You'll start in September, which is in two months."

"Two months?"

"The whole of K Unit- which now includes me and Leopard, we went to sergeant a few minutes ago to arrange it- is having a month's leave, so we can help you settle in and get drunk every night."

Alex grinned.

"You won't get drunk every night, obviously; being under age. But we'll do it when you're asleep so you won't feel left out."

The grin dropped from Alex's face. "Can I get out of these ropes now?" he asked. "They hurt. And I won't kill you- yet."

Wolf undid the ropes and Alex sat up, rubbing his wrists morosely in hope that someone would feel guilty but they all just sat there with smug looks on their faces.

"Sounds good." Alex said cheerfully. "Apart from one thing. I'm not going to school."

"Yup, you are."

"I'm not. I've missed two years of schooling and everyone will hate me, anyway."

"We're taking leave to tutor you. We're not completely deficient, you know. And everyone won't hate you; you're going to the same school as Rat's sister, who's pretty popular."

"Who says I'll like _her_?" Alex muttered and was ignored. "Anyway." he said louder. "I'm not going to school because I hate it and you can't force me because you aren't my legal guardians."

They looked shifty. Rat slid across a piece of crumpled paper. "Actually," he said. "We are."

The paper was an adoption paper. Conor MacAuliffe now had legal rights to fifteen year old Alex Rider.

Alex stared at it in disbelief. "Your name is Conor?"

"Yup."

"Can I still call you Rat?"

"...only in private."

"Tell me your real names." Alex demanded, looking round at everyone.

"Leo." Leopard said.

"Liam." Lion.

"Sam." Snake.

"Will." Wolf.

"Mo." Monkey.

"Ethan." Eagle.

"I give up." Alex announced. "I'm never going to remember them. I'm calling you all code names- _even in public."_

"No!" they protested.

"Don't send me to school then." Alex grinned.

"Fine. Call us that. We're calling you Eel."

Alex shrugged nonchalantly. "See if I care."

Wolf's phone rang. He picked it up and pressed it to his ear. "Taxi's here." he said when he'd finished the conversation.

Alex looked at him. "Taxi? What? Where are we going?"

Everyone stared at Alex as if he was mad. "London- you're going to _live _there, remember?"

"We're going now?"

"We're not in SAS any more." Rat reminded him. "What's there to stay around for?"

"I just... it's all happening so fast, I guess." Alex said wistfully. "This is so weird. I can't believe I'm finally getting out of here."

Then he punched Monkey in the stomach and danced out of the way before he could retaliate. "What was that for?" the man said indignantly.

"Thinking of the plan."

"How do you know it was me?"

"Because you're the only one mean enough to do something like that."

Monkey wilted. "I'm not, am I?"

Alex glared. "I bet it was your idea to tie me up, as well."

"It so was not!"

"Was too!" Wolf called back, walking ahead of them. Alex smiled triumphantly.

And then;

_Fuck, I'm going to school..._

**See what I said about it getting better? These chapters are gonna be so fun to write.**

**Most of you opted for continuing the story, so I'm gonna do that. The rest of you didn't say anything at all, of course, but that's besides the point. **

**And. Please answer this; do you want Alex to live in happiness and explore the times of only vague frustration at school and K Unit and Rat (since Lion and Leopard are now part of K Unit) and getting drunk and scenes like that, and then the bit where his life goes to hell, or just skipping over those parts in two more chapters and sending his life quickly down the drain?**

**Yeah. Please tell me.**

**So... Cruel Hard World is discontinued, as fans of that know. Look out for a load of one shots on Alex coming up soon, as soon as I finish them. And... um... that's it.**

**AND. I updated the last chapter and then all these reviews came flooding in (AND OH MY GOD! LAST CHAPTER I WAS SAYING HOW WE GOT 300 REVIEWS AND NOW WE'RE CLOSE TO 400! I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!) and I thought it was just awesome how so many people from so many different things are, like, reading the same thing and reviewing on it and stuff.**

**Ahem. Yes. It's not that amazing. It's the basic concept of the internet, in fact. I just had that thought, and then this came up;**

**So what about reviewing according to an alphabet? Ok. Like this; so the first person who reviews puts a word at the top of their review, beginning with A, and relating to Alex Rider. So A would most obviously be Alex, but could also be Anger or Attitude or things only loosely relating to Alex, but related all the same. Then the next person does B, which could be Bruised or Blood or Brains or something like that. And you click on the reviews to see what the person before you did, so you know what letter to do in the alphabet next.**

**It's confusing and I don't appreciate many takers, but you can do it if you want. It'd be interesting to see what people get for X and Z and hard ones like that. IF you get through the alphabet I'll update within three days; if not, it's ten, because I'm gonna be really busy the next week or so and have to make time to go to the library (see last chapter's A/N for reason WHY I have to go to the library) and type the next chapter. And put your review UNDER the word, so people going after you only have to look at the top of the review to see what to do next.**

**Yup. Um. Bye! And review!**


	19. Caught In The Nice-Life-N(in)ET(een)

Here's my chance for a new beginning,  
I saved the best for a better ending;  
In the end I'll make it up to you, you'll see;  
You'll get the very best of me...

**-One Day Too Late by Skillet**

Two months had gone by with very little to do. Alex had visited London and got to know the neighbourhood, shopped for all the things a typical teenager needed- games consoles, MP3 player, phone, earphones, vastly important things like that- and boarded the train with K Unit and Rat for trips down to the coast, which was beaches of rocks and stormy, polluted seas, but fun trips nevertheless. Summer had given him a stronger tan- the heat wave had lasted exactly one week then departed for the rest of the year, but had still come- and autumn had come in a few scatters of red leaves, which was all you saw in a busy city like London.

K Unit was leaving sometime, their leave nearly over. School (gah, he hated even the word) was fast approaching and he'd had to get supplies for it. Rat had entered uni and was doing a course to become a doctor; they'd moved into an apartment and got a load of second hand stuff off Ebay to decorate it and stuff.

Things were going well. Only a few days before K Unit left, they'd allowed Alex to come with them to a club and drink as much as he liked, for the final night 'as Thomas Smith; after this you are completely a child.' So now they were at a club and enjoying (in the vaguest sense of the word) the smoky pleasures.

That sounded wrong. Alex directed his train of thought away from it quickly.

"You wanna go sit down?" Rat shouted at him.

"What?" Alex shouted back, straining to hear over the loud, pulsing music and struggling free of yet another knot of sweaty bodies to see his friend.

"I said, do you want to go and sit down!?"

"Finally!" Alex shouted thankfully. Rat grinned at him and started moving along to the bar, Alex following and wishing he hadn't insisted on coming along.

"Beer, please." Rat told the bartender.

"Same for me." Alex added, lifting himself onto the stall and putting his head in his hands. "This is horrible." he groaned, glaring through his fingers at Rat. "How do people like these places? It stinks, music's too loud, too many people, and- where's everyone else, anyway?"

"They're coming over now." Rat jutted his chin towards the group of SAS men looking perfectly happy in the club and sauntering towards the pair with smiles. "And I told you you're too young for this."

The bartender pushed their drinks towards them and Alex gulped his down so he wouldn't have to think up an answer. He winced as it burned down his throat, leaving an unpleasant after-taste, but when Rat raised his eyebrows as if to say _see? Too young _he defiantly finished the mug in three gulps, wiping his lips and smirking at Rat.

And trying not to bring it all back up.

He ordered another beer when K Unit arrived- all six men, as D Unit was no longer alive- and found it didn't taste so bad after all, instead filling him with a nice buzzing feeling. Of course, he'd been drunk before and knew what it felt like, and that he'd regret this the next morning; but those were always on missions. Never just for the sake of it.

"Aren't you too young to drink?" Snake asked him.

Alex ordered yet another beer and gulped it all down to make a point. Snake raised his eyebrows but shrugged as if he couldn't care less, and ordered a whiskey of his own.

A while later everything was pleasantly fuzzy. The erratic, swinging lights suddenly seemed more glamorous; the sweaty, skimpily dressed people suddenly exotic and sexy; the music wonderful ad throbbing and all encompassing and dance suddenly possible. Before Alex knew it he was dancing next to a girl (well, a girl in Thomas Smith mode; in teenage Alex Rider mode she was a woman far older) dressed in a tight red mini dress, wrapping her arms around him and chatting some meaningless blurs of sound he couldn't quite hear over the music, anyway. Five minutes later they were outside the building and snogging, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands in her hair, her tongue in his mouth, his lips on hers.

A skill he'd never had much use for but suddenly was the only thing important now; he was a good kisser. A _very _good kisser.

She asked him a low whisper between breathless kisses if he wanted to go to her place and _continue it there? _And Alex had the sense, despite his drunken state, to decline. He didn't think twenty five year old Emily would be ecstatic when she found she'd shagged a schoolboy.

Ah, the woes of revealing your secret identity and then being forced to not taste the pleasures that otherwise could be reaped.

He stumbled back into the club, searching with blurred eyes for the muscular forms of any of K Unit or Rat. Everything suddenly tilted alarmingly and split in two; two disco balls at the top, two identical boys dancing next to him, two groups of girls swirling to the music.

Wow. He must be really drunk.

Alex stumbled over to where his friends were talking in a group and clambered onto a stool, standing up and gripping Wolf's shoulders to keep himself upright. "Everyone!" he announced. "I got somefing to tell yall. I am a spy!"

They looked at him. "We know."

"Really? Oh. Okay then. I used to go to Hogwarts!"

"Lemme guess, you also knew Harry Potter and helped him defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"How did you know?" Alex asked, then shrugged it off. "Yes, actually. I was the one who pulled the sword out of the hat and ran it through the no nosed guy."

"Sure..." Lion drawled. "You wanna get down now?"

"No!" he grinned, then ripped off his shirt and threw it onto the ground. He stuck his tongue at the disco ball and jumped next to it.

K Unit and Rat stared at him. He stuck his pinky at them and waltzed away, singing about unicorns and joining in the mess of bodies, dancing pathetically to the music and mostly just gawking at the women around who wore so little (jeez, he'd been to parties at school- and he'd thought the girls there were slutty!) and snatching as many beers as he could.

Wow. Beers were nice. Beers were very, very nice.

A warm hand gripped his shoulder- Leopard. "'ello." he slurred in greeting to the man. "Leeeeeopard... I just turned down sex. Can I have more beer? I like beer. Beer is nice." he lurched forwards to whisper conspiratorially in Leopard's ear. "Beer is _very _nice."

Leopard tried to hide a smile- he was nowhere near as drunk as his young friend, who maybe couldn't hold his drink at all that well. "No more beer for you, kiddo." he said, grasping Alex round the shoulders and steering him towards the rest of K Unit and Rat, nursing various drinks at the bar. "Think maybe you're going home now."

Alex stopped and looked at him with large, almost liquid black eyes. "Home?" he said in confusion. "I don't have a home. Home- home- _less. _Imma hobo!" he looked unusually delighted at this fact, and grinned at Leopard, expecting him to share in the excitement.

"That's not true." Leopard frowned. "You have got a home. The apartment, with Rat. Remember? You moved into it yesterday."

"I remember! But," he lowered his voice. "Rat's gonna die. And then I won't have a home any more."

"What? No he's not!"

Alex shrugged.

"Why'd you think that?"

He looked indescribably sad and achingly alone. "Because people who get close to me always die."

He slid away through the crowd to hoist himself on a seat next to Snake, leaving Leopard watching with no words to say- so he said nothing at all, going over and joining them, hoping to hell Alex wouldn't remember this tomorrow.

"Hii-" Alex slurred, stealing Snake's whiskey and taking a large gulp of it. He looked up annoyedly to Snake. "Thas' not beer."

"No, it's not." Snake agreed, taking it back.

"Ca' 'I have some beeeeeer?"

"Nope."

Alex started to cry. Snake thought that maybe drunk teenagers were more than he could handle and swapped seats with Rat, telling him hurriedly he needed to learn a lesson in 'parenting'.

"Alex? What's wrong?"

Alex glared at him. "'S _Eel. _Why's everyone calling me _Alex?"_

"...because that's your name. And you are not in SAS any more, so are not being called Eel."

"You're not and I still call you Rat."

"No one else does."

"'Vryone else is stupid. Rat, Wolf is gay."

"...and yet he has a wife and three kids. Curious way of being gay, that."

Alex glared at him. "Not the Wolf you know, the Wolf _I _know."

Rat decided to turn this conversation around to something else.

"Looking forwards to school?"

"Hell no." Alex spat, clenching his fists. "I still can't believe you're making me go!"

"It's for your own good."

"But I don't _like _it."

"Why?"

"Because I just don't."

"Better reason, please."

"All the pens are full of evil ink that wants to seep out and cover me- it's symbiote, see- and take over my mind. Because it needs a host to kill everyone and stuff. But I don't wanna be it's host!"

"I don't quite follow." Rat said honestly. Alex looked at him curiously.

"You know, symbiote? Venom Symbiote? First host Peter Parker, second Eddie Brock, who then turned to be the infamous villain known as Venom. He's dead now but the Symbiote isn't and it wants a new host and it's in the pens at school waiting to come and control my mind so you can't send me to school?"

"Peter Parker? Isn't that Spider-man? Are you talking about stuff out of a comic?"

"No duh." Alex answered, rolling his eyes.

"...You do know that's not real, right?"

"They are." Alex insisted.

"I think you had too many beers."

The mention was enough for Alex to remember the thing he'd been upset about. "Beer! I want more beer. Bartender person, can I have another beer?"

"Sure thing, kid." the man said, slapping down a chipped, frothing cup in front of Alex.

"M'not a kid." Alex mumbled but downed the drink happily.

Rat rolled his eyes and took the beer away. "Guys," he said to everyone. "I'm taking Alex home. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure," Wolf waved. "Bye!"

Alex protested in mumbled slurs which Rat ignored as he steered his ward (ward?) out of the smoky interior of the club, pushing him into the seat and shutting the door, going round to the driver's side and starting the car up. "Don't you dare puke in this." Rat warned Alex, who looked at him blearily, mooned and put his head down in front of him.

A slightly lurching through London later- Rat only kind of tipsy, but still tipsy- and they were parking outside their new apartment. Alex had fallen asleep and was muttering about 'Spider-man' and 'ink' and 'killer symbiote Venom is gonna' and 'serves them right for sending me to _school' _with such scorn in the last word Rat had to stifle a smile as he poked Alex awake. "Coming, coming," Alex slurred, getting out of the car and stumbling towards the apartment, looking up at the building. "Where 'are we?" he asked confusedly.

"Home." Rat said, pushing him towards the door, fumbling for a key and walking in.

"Rat," Alex moaned, still waiting outside the door, then took a few quick lurching steps towards the bushes on the side and heaved up his beers and the over cooked lasagne from Tesco Lion had attempted to heat up earlier.

Rat sighed. This was gonna be a long night.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc._

Ow, his head hurt.

It hurt a lot. Like, a lot a lot. There was an angry nest of hornets steaming around and some fierce giant pounding against the inside of his skull and a fat lady singing at the top of her voice and- was he still drunk? Only a bit.

And his head still hurt.

Where was he, anyway? Under a thin blanket, on top of a crisp sheet, mattress underneath abnormally soft- wait, mattress? Blue ceiling above, chipped wooden door hanging slightly open to let in smells of something burning and the sight of a thin hallway with bare floor boards. Alex rolled out of bed and waited for the dizziness to dissipate, wondering where he was- oh. Right.

Rat. New guardian. This was his house. Alex's house; c'mon, Alex, say it- _home. _Good boy. There you go. This is home. This is your family.

Yes, those noises coming from outside, of men shouting and laughing and swearing loudly is your family. And yes, that smell of burning is probably your breakfast.

Wait, what? Burning. Breakfast. Two words commonly associated with each other in this household made purely of men, none of whom knew how to cook; least of all Alex, who could make a neat omelet but only when there was someone watching because last time he'd set the cooker on fire.

Alex walked out of the room, pleased to see his sense of balance had come back from last night and collapsed into a chair round the table in the kitchen, muttering a "morning." to the seven men already in there.

"Hey, Alex!" Eagle said cheerfully. "Had fun last night?"

"My head hurts." Alex groaned in return.

"That usually happens when you down as many beers as you can and get shit faced." Snake informed him with a half smirk. Alex glared at him.

"I don't remember much." he admitted. "I wasn't that drunk, was I?"

They exchanged glances. "You got all depressed, then stripped shirtless and spouted your secrets and part in the Harry Potter universe to the whole world, then started ranting about how Spider-man's enemy was at your school or something, puked in the bushes and then fell asleep in the lift and wouldn't wake up."

Alex paused. He opened his mouth. Then he shut it again and decided the best thing to do was change the subject. "What's for breakfast?"

Snake shouted in horror and charged for the oven, prising it open with heroic effort and choking at the smoke which came out in great billows, thrusting gloved hands into the glowing interior and pulling out a blackened dish. He scraped off something from it onto a plate and put it on the table.

Alex looked at it. "Please don't answer that." he said. "Can we go eat out?"

"We can." they shrugged. "But you have school about... now."

"_What?!" _Alex shouted, aghast. "What? No! That's not fair! I've only been out of SAS for a week, and you- you got me drunk! The night before my first day! I can't go into school with a hangover! And anyway I haven't got the uniform or anything!"

"Uniform's on bed. We won't make you if you don't wanna go, but we'd thought you'd like not to miss the first day and," Rat looked pointedly at the clock. "You have fifteen minutes to get ready and go catch the bus. It's the 72. Here's your bus money, now we're going to Costa for breakfast, have a nice time bye!"

Oh, god.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc._

"This is our new student, Alex Rider. I hope you'll all make him feel welcome in our school." Mrs Griffith smiled at Alex, who slumped down as much as he could and stuffed his hands in his blazer pockets. "Alex, you can sit there." she gestured to an empty seat at the back of the classroom, on a table of four currently occupied by three heavily make up'd, chatting girls who giggled as he walked towards them and sat in his chair.

This was hell already.

"As you know, our school prides itself on our mathematics achievements. This is why we'll be encouraging you to do the best you can in maths, and the reward of thirty Vivos goes towards anybody who manages to push their level up by the end of the year. You kids are nearing GCSE's; this is the most important time of your school years. I expect you to all study hard."

There was some nods but most people just rolled their eyes, bored expressions on their faces. Alex wished he had a hood.

"First we're going to do algebra, a theme that will go on for the rest of the term."

Algebra? Numbers and letters and annoying substitution and multiplication and complicated operations and things which flew and danced and grew steadily more and more annoying in front of his eyes.

Great. Just great.

After two periods- history and maths- there was a half an hour long break. Alex summarised miserably that because certain people (not naming any names) had neglected to mention he was going to school the next day, he'd forgotten to pack lunch or bring any money; as such he would go hungry for the day. He wandered round the school for a bit before slouching on his own in the corner of the field and playing Doodle Jump- he had to get 4000 coins so he could get the shadow suit, which would mean he could go invisible for monsters- until the bell went. Five minutes passed in peace.

Then a group of girls and boys came up to him. The girl leading them and talking excitedly with her friend looked curiously familiar, with short, sandy blond hair and chiselled features in a dark skinned face, a steady build and a mischievous smirk- who did it remind him of? She strode quickly up to him and with a sigh, he paused the game and looked up at her. "Hey!" she grinned. "Are you Alex Rider?"

"Um, yeah." he said, standing up and looking at the group suspiciously. "Do I know you?"

"Niamh Choudhury. Conner's sister?"

"Um. No. I don't know you."

"Yeah, Conner says you know him."

This sparked something in Alex's head. "Rat?"

"I think some of his SAS mates have called him that. How do you know him by that name?" she looked at him curiously. He chewed his lip, not wanting to lie but not able to tell the truth. She seemed to get the picture. "S'okay, you don't have to answer that. Anyway, you wanna hang out with me and my friends?"

He shrugged. What was there to lose? "Sure."

"Kay. Everyone, this is Alex. Alex, this is Katie," the girl she was walking up with, with choppy brown hair and gleaming green eyes waved and smiled shyly. "Jim, Anisah, Tony and Toby- they're twins, by the way- and Sam, which is short for Samantha."

"Hi." the twins grinned, coming up to him. "S'good you're here. Now we're equal in terms of boys vs. girls; four each. And believe me, there is a strong rivalry between the two sexes in this group."

Alex smiled back. "Happy to help."

"Right." Niamh announced to the group. "Now we are going to the canteen and someone is buying me a cookie. I climbed the fence, remember? They dared me to," she explained to Alex. "And now someone owes me a cookie."

"The twins did the dare. They should pay." Jim, a red haired, green eyed boy said immediately.

"What?" Tony- or Toby, they were identical- said indignantly. "We agreed that all of us would!"

"It's 60p, guys." Anisah frowned at them. "Not a huge amount. I'll pay."

"C'mon, then! Break is nearly over!"

Four periods- and a lunch in which Alex played football with the guys and Niamh, the only girl who wanted to join in out of their group- Alex was boarding the bus home. Jim lived nearby and got the same bus as him so they sat together and shared high scores on Doodle Jump on the way. "So how'd you know Niamh's brother?" Jim asked curiously. "He's in the army, right?"

"SAS, yeah." Alex said. "Uh- he's my guardian, actually."

"I knew you weren't from London! So you're living with him now?"

"Yup. I think he put Niamh up to befriending me, but she's nice anyway."

"He did." Jim admitted. "She said no way, but then saw you sitting in the field on your own, pronounced you 'brooding and hot', and decided to make friends under the banner of being your friend's sister."

"Um... that's good?"

"Oh, it is. Niamh hasn't had a single boyfriend since she's been in secondary and hasn't shown any of- _that _kind of interest in one until you came in. Other than fictional characters, obviously. She's always swooning over Wolverine comics or talking about Percy Jackson or something." Alex thought he detected a bit of jealously in his new friend's tone.

"I'm not looking for a girlfriend." he assured Jim. "And anyway, her brother would probably beat me up if I tried anything."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you were living with him. Good luck with that, mate."

"Thanks. This is my stop; see you tomorrow!"

"Yeah. Bye!"

"Bye."

He got off the bus and started walking towards the apartment, getting his keys out of the bag to open the door. "Hello?" he shouted when he got in. No one answered. Alex shrugged, closed the door and dumped his bag on the floor; then wandered into the kitchen for something to eat because _damn _he was hungry. He found aYorkie in the fridge and bit a few squares off, filling up a glass of milk and drinking that at the same time, then dropped down in front of the telly to watch something and start on some maths homework he'd been assigned that day.

When had his life got so normal? This time two years ago he was running away from blood thirsty maniacs and saving the fricking world. Only a few months ago he was working two jobs, both illegal, as a spy and a soldier, and hiding everything under bad dye and a closed mouth. And just a few weeks ago he'd killed a man in cold blood and had a head of a major terrorist organisation swear she was going to kill him. And now, look at him. Eating chocolate in front of an episode of the Inbetweeners. Doing his homework from a day at _school- _a place he hadn't been in two years. A place he'd never thought he'd see the inside of again. Waiting for his guardian to come home- a name he'd only thought would ever be attributed to the red haired corpse in the grave marked 'JACK STARBRIGHT'. A receipt in his blazer pocket from a ride home on a bus, where he'd sat with a normal boy his own age and talked about nothing but games and girls.

Was he allowed to hope? Could it finally be true that everything he'd discarded in day dreams simply because it was too _ludicrous _was actually real? Would last? That maybe he'd finally get a normal life. That maybe it wasn't too late.

MI6 were gone. SAS was gone. Scorpia couldn't find him. He had a family; friends. School was finally something to look forwards to.

There were chocolate bars and milk in the fridge.

He was free.

He. Was. Free.

"Eel! You home?" he heard Rat shout from the doorway, footsteps coming further into the house and the door banging loudly shut.

"Yeah." he said. "In the sitting room."

"Hey. Just dropped K Unit off; they've gone back to SAS. We'll see them for the Xmas holidays. Have a nice day at school?"

"Meh. Better than I expected. Met your sister, by the way."

Rat grinned, sitting down beside him and breaking part of the Yorkie bar of to stuff in his mouth. "Niamh. Yeah. Like her?"

"Mm, she's nice. Only one of the girls who played football, and she's good at it, too."

"Yeah. Niamh's good at everything." Rat smiled. Alex heard the pride in his voice and grinned back, then pushed his exercise book over to his guardian.

"You put me in school. You're doing my homework."

"What? No way! I got stuff to do for uni bye!"

He disappeared from the room. Alex scowled at the clanging door and got tiredly back to his algebra homework.

**Hi. Sup?**

**So it was pretty even on the guys/galls-who-wanted-Alex's-life-to-go-quickly-to -hell and the guys/galls-who-wanted-a-few-nice-chapters-and-THEN -Alex's-life-to-go-quickly-to-hell. So I was like, fine; I'll do longish ones of him going to school, having fun, making friends, etc.**

**As you can see above.**

**And then I realised that writing Alex happy is just _really boring. _He's just not made to think non depressing stuff. Or have non depressing things happening to him. And I can't write what goes against his nature; so I'm going with the -send-his-life-quickly-to-hell thing. And I can reveal that CHAPTER TWENTY IS THE ONE WHERE IT ALL HAPPENS. **

**(Ohmygodyou'regoingtohatemesomuch)**

**Which is next chapter. So look forwards to that.**

**I don't write romance. So there will be no romance between Niamh and Alex, just in case you were thinking that. She's just a minor character and will probably only appear in the next chapter briefly and then not again for the rest of the story- but the main reason she's there is in case I decide to put a Gallagher Girls crossover sequel to this up, and she'll be my way of sending Alex there. It will almost definitely not happen, but just in case.**

**For the alphabet reviweing thing; wow. Just wow, guys. We got to 'R', which is (counts on fingers for a second) EIGHTEEN PEOPLE WHO REVIEWED ON THAT THEME! Thanks. If you want to do it again/try it for the first time, continue from R. Which is 'S', by the way; so check on reviews to see what people have done before you, then continue from there.**

**Thanks. Bye!**


	20. (c)HA(pter) T(w)E(nty) YOU

I used the deadwood to make the fire rise  
The blood of innocence burning in the skies  
I filled my cup with the rising of the sea  
And poured it out in an ocean of debris

I'm swimming in the smoke  
Of bridges I have burned  
So don't apologize  
I'm losing what I don't deserve  
What I don't deserve  
**Burning in the skies, by Linkin Park**

**Chapter 20. We got through the whole alphabet! Thanks, guys. Nearly crossed 400 reviews. Yup, 400 fricking reviews. With this chapter, please?**

**But I wouldn't blame you if you don't. Because god, you are going to hate me so much. Just bear this in mind-**

**IT IS PROBABLY WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE. BUT IT MIGHT NOT BE. **

**Anyway, chapter 20;**

"Alex. Can you complete the calculation on the board, please?"

Alex looked up with a start when he heard his name, gazing round the classroom and settling on the teacher; standing in a slightly frightening pose, she was presenting him with a pen and behind her was a Smartboard of scrawled blue calculations, which would probably make sense if he'd been following them but now seemed like something from a comic, like a wall scrawled with incomprehensible calculations by that ever present mad scientist.

"Alex?"

"Multiply by three, add five, take the top and minus it by the bottom, write answer in that square on the right." Niamh hissed at him. He nodded gratefully and went up to the board, taking the pen from the smug teacher.

Um. Ok... multiply by five, take three, take the top and add it to the bottom. Ok. So five multiplied by five was twenty five, take three is twenty two, the top was fifteen and bottom twenty two, fifteen plus twenty two was... um... thirty seven. Write thirty seven in the square on the right, smirk at the teacher because hah, he'd shown her. (With a little help.)

He saw Niamh groaning and putting her head down at the back. The teacher smiled at him and coolly informed him he'd be serving detention for not concentrating in class for the fifteenth time that day.

Oh, right. Multiply by _three, _add _five. _Oops.

He went back to his seat and made a face at Niamh. "Fifth detention this term." he said miserably. "Rat's gonna bite my head off when I get back."

"Nah," she smiled knowingly. "_Conor," _because she hated him calling her brother 'Rat'. "Used to get a det every day when he was a kid. Tell him that and he can't go mad."

"Thanks." he said. "And thanks for helping me. Even if I didn't hear it right."

"That's ok-"

"Niamh, Alex. Stop talking or that's five minutes more detention for you, Alex, and you can join him, Niamh."

They muttered something vaguely like an apology and tried not to make eye contact for the rest of the lesson.

Alex had now been at school for a month. At surprisingly, it was almost... enjoyable.

He had actual friends. Niamh and her group. Everyone else was slightly wary of him after he'd had that (unfortunate) showdown with the swimming coach about taking his shirt off and (ahem, unfortunately) succeeded in pushing him into the pool- and he was talking about a proper, hairy, loud, bound-with-loads-and-loads-and-_loads_-of muscles kinda swimming coach, who you really didn't mess with- in the end he'd been excused from swimming. The incident had distanced a lot of potential friends and turned potential enemies into real haters (luckily no one had yet found that boy he'd knocked out and dragged behind a bush that morning- he'd attacked him first!) but was luckily the only one in the whole month, which was a sort of record when you looked back at Brooklands.

That was his social life. In academic terms he was doing relatively well. He managed to score a C on the end of term results for everything apart from mathematics. (Ah, his old foe. Maths he had an average grade of D/F, the teacher hated him, he daydreamed most lessons and it was in that subject he'd received fourteen of his fifteen detentions- the fifteenth had been for the swimming coach thing). Rat was thinking about getting him some online tutors when they got a bit more money but for now they were just settling in.

Outside of school- there was a whole list of things he _didn't _do. This included; spying, looking out for black cars, looking out for enemy vehicles/people, following suspicious persons, wearing shades and long shirts and full length trousers to hide bruises- no more of them, because of the first one- taking regular pain medication (he only took it occasionally when his bullet wound started acting up), and no. More. Flashbacks. The last was something he was so proud and so pleased about that it astonished even him. Because at the first sign of it, he'd done what he and his therapist had worked on (the whole corny count-to-ten and find-your-happy-place) and they disappeared.

_Finally._

Rat was still at uni and had gained a whole pack of friends as well as still being in contact with K Unit. Alex had tagged along with with Rat on some of the wild uni parties he'd been invited to but the next day, when he turned up at school and fell asleep with a killer hangover and lipstick marks (from where he'd tried to charm some pretty woman and been cooed at for his age, kissed on the forehead or cheek or something and handed a drink of orange juice) he'd decided to quit them. He'd been to some his new friends went to, which where as he remembered them (boring), but not anything with Rat, though his new guardian regularly disappeared nights and had to be dragged out of bed the mornings Alex wanted a cooked breakfast. Though this almost always ended in having to beat out flames, Alex figured that practice would make perfect and he really wanted some pancakes.

His hobbies didn't include furthering his gun skills. Though he now attended a karate club, all his other out of schools activities were strictly non violent; playing football down the park, cycling around London, and watching TV, a sport he'd sorely missed the past year and had to make up for in extravagant lengths of time, staring at the television screen until he drifted to sleep.

The one bump in his otherwise beautifully normal life; sleep. Nightmares plagued him more than ever as if trying to make up for how nice life currently was. Vivid recollections and more gasping details of standing on a mountain of corpses and straggling up, bones crunching under his feet and no he was sinking, down, in the mounds of rotting flesh and staring eyes were rolling in waxy skulls of (oh god _Lion!_) and Wolf was reaching out with clawed hands and Leopard was little more than a torso and head and Eagle was riddled with bullet holes and Snake had a knife through his throat, a knife through his stomach, and Niamh was there too- a small figure pinned by a hand to the floor, throat ripped out- and Monkey was a corpse stained with blood and Rat was stitched together and hanging from string and all of them where muttering with clattered jaws- _why? Why, Alex? _And then, all the rest he'd killed; everyone from his missions and that man from the assassination, staggering towards him with half his head blown out, and Jack asking him in a small voice _why? Why, Alex? _And plunging a knife into his stomach, and then they were all coming up and grasping on him and _pulling him apart _and there was Rat saying _I never wanted you leave me alone you lost me my job, my life I hate you I never wanted to look after a stupid little brat _and all of them; _you ruin everything!- _

Fuck. Alex sucked in a breath and let it out again, closing his eyes away from the grasping thoughts. "M'fine." he whispered to Niamh, who was staring at him worriedly. He looked down at his maths worksheet and started to fill it in. _If x equals 5y-7x what is x? _

He was okay.

At break (in which he bought one of the school's cookies, a delicious morsel which was the only thing in the canteen which could be described as delicious) they sat outside in one of niches and tried smoking. It was a first time for most of them, apart from Alex who had had to do it in missions as part of his cover, and it was fun enough watching everyone choke and try and take long drags and wonder over smoke rings (no, it has to be from a pipe- you can do it with ciggies too!- no, a _pipe) _and the thrill of doing something which would gain them dets (what this school called detentions) for the rest of the year if caught. And like everything else Alex did these days, it was so normal, so part of the average teen's life he loved it simply for that.

He caught the bus home (after detention) and collapsed on the couch when he got in. "Rat," he called. "I'm back!"

"Lemme guess, detention?"

"Mm," he hummed non committally and stared at the plate which was in Rat's hand, who had appeared in the doorway- "Is that a _pancake?"_

"Yup." Rat said and took a bite out of it.

"What? I want one!"

"They're finished. Was gonna save one for you but you were late home."

Alex glared.

Then; "Who's here?"

"What'd you mean, who's here?"

"You can't make pancakes. So someone must be here."

"Right. Come on, Alex. I want you to meet my girlfriend."

_Oh. _

Girlfriend.

Alex followed Rat into the kitchen and successfully kept his jaw shut at the sight of an actual, real live woman in a mini skirt and tight, low top, used pancake materials next to her and blue eyes full of something mildly disgusting when she gazed at Rat. "Um, hi." he said.

"Hello. I suppose you must be Alex?"

"You'd suppose correctly." she didn't seem to catch on that he was mocking her but Rat glared at him, slicing a finger across his neck. Alex got the message.

"Conor has told me all about you! I'm-"

"Heh, funny. He hasn't mentioned you at all to me."

Which maybe was an age old, cliché response but served to make the woman falter. "Well, I think-"

"Rat. I'm going out. Can I have some money?"

His guardian looked relieved he was asking and put his hand in his pocket to get out his wallet. The girlfriend frowned. "Are you sure a kid should go out at this time? It is getting dark, you know."

Rat backtracked quickly. "Um, yeah. You shouldn't go out, Ee- Alex."

Alex scowled at him, and switched the _disliked _opinion of the girlfriend right up to _hated. _

"Rat-"

"It's Conor." the woman interrupted. He frowned at her.

"What?"

"Conor. His name isn't Rat, it's Conor. And I think as a teenager you should be above making up names for people."

He actually growled at her. "Piss off. He's my guardian, I can call him what I like."

"Don't be so rude!"

"I can say what I like, bitch."

She slapped him across the face.

Would Rat hate him forever if he slapped her back? Yeah, probably.

He slapped her back.

"How dare you hit a girl!?"

"How dare you hit a kid?"

"Right, both of you." Rat interrupted. "Calm down, please. Can you just try and get along? For me?"

They stared at each-other. Too much make up, pouty lips, badly dyed hair.

Bratty little kid, cold blue eyes, spoilt teen.

"No. Way." both said simultaneously.

"Jane," Rat said. "We're going out for dinner. Eel, order pizza or something. You two will never meet again, I promise."

Both beamed at him.

"We'll talk when I get back. Kay? Bye!" he herded his girlfriend out the door. Alex followed them and slammed it before Jane could close it.

Huh. That had gone... well.

Alex picked up his phone and dialled Niamh. "Hello?" she said when she picked up.

"Niamh, I think your brother hates me."

"What did you do this time?"

"I slapped his girlfriend." he admitted.

"...oh no. Please don't tell me it was Jane."

"Um, yeah, it was. Why? She gonna come after me with an axe or something?"

"No, it's just that Conor introduced me to her yesterday and I spat at her and stormed out."

Alex whistled lowly. "Wow. Why's he still with her if both of us hate him? We're the most important people in his life, aren't we?"

"He'll break up with her soon, you'll see."

"Hopefully. Well, he said we're never gonna meet again."

"You and Jane?"

"Yup."

"Lucky." she said enviously. "He says I have to apologise to her. He guilt tripped me into agreeing."

"...that's bad."

"I know right? He said she's the only girlfriend he's had longer than a month."

"A _month?_"

"Uh huh. The last one dumped him because he gave her Haribos for her birthday."

"Oh yeah, he told me about that. I said he had a unique way of seducing a girl."

"Tell me about it. The one before that was a real bitch, though; she said she didn't like him in SAS because she never got to see him and dumped him."

"Wow."

"Yup. The one before that was actually nice, but he dumped her."

"Why?"

"Um... she was maybe one of my friend's sisters and he was being mean to me so I got her to fake date him to get back at him?"

"..."

"Yeah, don't answer that. Have you got the science homework?"

"On the school network? No, it wouldn't let me log in."

"Same here. Which is good. Because it's electricity. And god I hate electricity."

"Not as bad as algebra." he sighed.

"Speaking of maths, what was that in class?"

"...I was daydreaming?"

"I _told _you the answer."

"I forgot."

"Sure you didn't do it on purpose to make Ms Suggit hate you even more?"

"...definitely not."

"Whatever."

"Niamh?"

"Yup?"

"Um. Good pizza place?"

"Pizza Express."

"No shit. Anything cheaper?"

"...that's the only one I know. Apart from Pizza Hut. But I'm not sure they deliver."

"Great. Well, Rat's paying for it anyway." she'd got used to him calling her brother Rat now. "You wanna come over for?"

"Sure. At the apartment, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Kay, I'll be there in ten. Get spinach pizza for me. Bye!"

She hung up before he could protest at this disgusting choice of pizza. Ah well, he was getting pepperoni.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc._

"I am going to ruin his life." Jenna growled, pulling up another file about Alex Rider- the boy who killed her lover. "When I'm done with him, he'll be begging to die. I am going to take away everyone he's loved. And then torture him until he-"  
"Jenna." her fellow board member interrupted smoothly. "That's fine. But if you want Scorpia's backing on this we need to get something from it too."  
"He is one of the most dangerous operatives in history. What about getting him on our side?"  
"How does that get me revenge?" Jenna growled.  
"Well, you kill everyone he loves."  
"Not enough."  
"And then you get him on our side. And when he realises what he's done..."  
"Agreed." she said immediately, and for the first time since James had died she smiled.

_Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider Alex Riderr Rider Alex Alex Rider etc., etc._

"Pepperoni? I said spinach!"

"Spinach is disgusting. It's _green."_

"What's wrong with green stuff?"

"It means it's a _vegetable_."

"What's wrong with a vegetable?"

Alex looked at her scathingly and shook his head. "And I thought you were the smart one."

She flicked him on the forehead but took a cheesy slice of the pizza, biting into it and chewing. Alex followed her lead.

"I bought Call of Duty, by the way. Since you guys don't have it. Even though Conor was in the army."

"Awesome." he nodded, ignoring the fact that he was too. "Wanna play when we finish this?"

"Yup. You know what Conor and his bitch are coming home?"

Alex snickered at the name but shook his head. "They just said they're going out for dinner. Then tehy'll probably go back to hers to have sex. Then they'll go to a party and get drunk. Not in that order."

"Probably." she nodded. "Oh, and I bet you a tenner she dumps him by next week."

"Raise it to twenty and you're on." he said immediately.

"Done."

They shook.

Call of Duty was mildly embarrassing. For two reasons; 1) he was a boy and 2) he had been in the army. So technically he should beat Niamh by miles.

It didn't quite work out like that.

"It's too unrealistic." he moaned afterwards.

"Because you're so used to doing this stuff in real life."

_If only she knew. _"Yes!"

"Sure. Heat up that pizza, would you? I'm hungry. And it's cold."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Your house."

"Your brother's house."

"So?"

"So... fine, I'll do it." He walked into the kitchen and put the pizza on a plate, stuffing it into the microwave and putting it on for a minute. "Niamh!" he called. "You want a drink or something?"

"Sure! You got juice?"

"Um... Sprite, Sprite and... more Sprite."

"You guys are so unhealthy. Fine, Sprite."

He carried the two glasses and pizza back into the living room, setting them down so the two teens could continue their meal.

"Alex." she said after a while.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"Um. Shoot?"

"Why're you living with Conor? I mean, don't you have any other family?"

He shrugged awkwardly. "Not really. They're all dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry. But... why Conor? I mean, he's a bit young to be looking after someone and my brother barely takes care of himself. It's not that I don't want you to be here," she rushed to remedy. "It's awesome you live with him, that I've got a new friend. I was just wondering. You don't have to answer me if you don't want."

"Ok." Alex said and continued eating.

He became aware of Niamh staring at him. "What?"

"Tell me, then!"

"But you said I didn't have to answer."

"I was saying that to be nice. Like when people say how are you but they couldn't care less, they just say it to... sound nice."

"I don't believe in lying."

"You lie all the time, Alex."

"I do not! When?"

She stared at him shrewdly. "You really want me to answer that?"

"Yup."

"Like that time at swimming when I asked you why you didn't want to take your shirt off and you said it was because you had this really ugly rash, when I know that the real reason is you have a bullet wound."

He gaped at her. "How did you know that?"

"You don't want to know." she dismissed. "And that time I asked you if you'd missed any school and you said no when I know that you've barely been to school since fourteen and only came back just now."

"How... you..."

"And that other time I asked you if you'd ever been affiliated with the government and you said no when I know you have a file on MI6 and it says you've done more than one mission." She clapped a hand over her mouth and stared at him wide eyed. "I didn't say that out loud, did I?"

Alex could only stare at her. "How... how did you find out that stuff? Was it Rat? He told you, didn't he?"

"I knew he knew!" she said triumphantly. "No, he didn't. I kind of maybe hackedintothegovernmentfilestolookupstuffonyou."

"You- _what?"_

"Oops?"

"You do know you could go to prison for that."

"I'm too good a hacker. Seriously. No one knows about it- apart from you, now- but I can hack into anything. Literally. And not leave a single trace behind."

"But you're crap at computers! You struggle to get into the school network without help!"

"It's a cover." she shrugged. "You'd know all about it, working for MI6."

"God, Niamh. You can't tell anyone, you know that?"

"What do you take me for?" she said, looking affronted. "But. Spill."

"Um, I-"

"Alex! I'm back!" the front door slammed shut and Rat came through to the sitting room, (thankfully without Jane) and saw Niamh. "Hey, sis. What are you doing here?"

"Just came to have pizza." she said smoothly. "How was your date with Jane?"

"She dumped me." Rat said miserably.

Niamh grinned at Alex. "You owe me twenty. I'll see you tomorrow, and we are _so _not done talking."

She got up, picked up her bag and started walking out. "Bye, Niamh." Alex said miserably.

"What was that about?" Rat asked, looking between Alex and the door. "You had an argument or something?"

"Kind of." Alex said. He was about to tell Rat before realising that his guardian wouldn't take too well to knowing his little sister was an expert hacker and had got into MI6 files and now knew a bit about Alex. Not much, but one of the most important secrets he'd ever held. And though he was annoyed about that telling Rat would break their friendship- and he really didn't want that to happen.

He'd sort it out.

"It's nothing." he corrected.

"Whatever." Rat stood up and walked towards the window. "Jane broke up with me."

"you said."

"Did you have to slap her?"

"She slapped me first."

"True, that. But you provoked her."

"I was doing you a favour."

"Maybe I wanted to decide that for myself!"

"Me and Niamh both think she's a bitch."

"I don't care! Maybe I wanted a girlfriend, _for once. _You two had to ruin it. W-"

Everything happened in slow motion. Like a film. Like that luminous moment everything collapses- except this time there wouldn't be a happy ending.

Alex looked over Rat's shoulder. At the roof of a building next to theirs. At the black clothes figure huddling on top of it. At the glint of sunlight shining off the rifle.

The clock's handles ticked round the face. Motes of dust drifted down. Alex was frozen still as he watched Rat, imprinted this final picture of his guardian, his best friend, for the final time.

A rippling bang.

A shatter of glass as the window exploded.

Rat's mouth opening in astonishment.

Him collapsing onto the floor, the figure on the rooftop running; leaving behind a painted picture of a scorpion.

"Rat?"

Blood.

The harshness of a final breath.

The hole in Rat's chest.

_Dead. _


	21. 21 Guns, Lay Down Your Arms

**Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.**

**OMG I AM TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH THE NEW STORY I'M WRITING- ok, probably not helping things. I. Am. Sorry.**

**(She says calmly before the lynch mob pile over.)**

**Time extended. I kept forgetting. I like keeping you guys in suspense.**

**Hah- what, me? I didn't say that last one. Totally not me. Uh huh. _Definitely. _**

**On with the story; 21 GUNS, LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS. **

**(Cookies to whoever gets that reference.)**

It was a long time of staring at the body before Alex had the presence to do something.

He rushed to the window to see if the assassin was still there, but the man was already jumping over rooftops in wild leaps, disappearing quickly from sight; Alex wanted to give chase but knew he could never catch up. And then, with a block in his throat, he turned back to the corpse and wondered at how still a person could be when they were dead.

He crouched down next to (his best friend, guardian, unit mate, protector) and put two fingers on the waxy wrist. As if that would change the all too clear bullet hole in the forehead. As if that would change with and open mouth and all too boneless limbs and lolling tongue and still chest and unmoving hands that lay like limp spiders on each side of the fallen body and glassy, staring eyes and horribly non existent wheezing choke and splatter. Of. Blood.

Alex forced himself to breath.

_Oh god. _He couldn't look at it any more. He couldn't- he _couldn't- _Rat was dead. He was _dead. _He was- he was gone, forever. He was never coming back and he was lying, still, on a floor of a place Alex had thought he could call home and- and it was all his fault.

He had to get out of here.

Alex tore out, not bothering to pack or pick up anything or prepare for running away because he didn't deserve to, everything in this house belonged to a dead man and oh god he had to get out of here, and he was banging on the door of the lift- come on come on _come on- _it was taking too long. He tore down the stairs, two at a time, galloping and tripping and crying, a blundering mess of raw grief with a wordless, silent scream echoing in his ears, which wouldn't come out because Rat was dead. And it was his fault.Alex ran down the street, arms pumping and legs running and a burn beginning to build in his muscles- and only just avoided running head-first into a pole, and not just because his eyes were blurry with tears but because there was an image of the body, crumpled, boneless, stained, dead, flashing in front of his eyes and forgive him if it was a bit hard to see anything, forgive him this one thing if nothing else, because he was already black with sin so don't add to it more. He was already condemned to hell- he'd already killed one of the only people who'd wanted to take care of him- and there was no lower he could plunge, nothing more he could do.

He had to breath. He had to _breath. _

Alex wiped a hand across his eyes. Leaning against a wall, he scanned the dark little alleyway he'd run into. Ok. He had to think. He had to sort this out. Someone had killed Rat. First things first- who?

Scorpia, obviously.

Why?

He had- oh god. This was revenge. He'd killed Jenna's lover- that crazy bitch who'd tried to strangle him- and she was delivering on her promise. She was avenging the man Alex had assassinated.

If he hadn't-

No, he couldn't start on the if-only's and what-ifs. It was past, it was done. He had to figure out the consequences, work out what was happening from here, but he had to accept that Rat was dead.

Rat was dead?

Fuck, yes. He was dead. Never going to breath again. Speak again. Eat again. As soon as someone found him, he'd be buried. Earth would be piled on top and in a hundred years or a thousand or a million nothing would remain of the man Alex had, though indirectly, killed.

No. No, this couldn't be happening.

Rat. He was sorry. He didn't mean it. Please come back. He'd do anything- _anything. _

Alex fell asleep and this time there was another ghost to add to his horror ride of nightmares.

_**Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc.**_

Soft.

The bed was soft.

And warm. A warm, heavy weight above him. A duvet. Below, a soft mattress. Underneath his head, a gigantic pillow smelling faintly of lavender.

He opened his eyes.

A- a hotel room?

Alex swung out of bed, looking around with sleep dazed eyes. He was still in the faded jeans and loose shirt he'd been wearing when Rat had-

Rat was dead.

It hit him like a punch to the gut, making him double over, groaning in actual physical agony because _Rat. Was. Dead. _Wait. Why was he in a hotel room? In a bed? What had happened?

"Oh, hey, Eel. You're up."

The bathroom door opened with a creak. A yawning man with messy hair stepped out, a lopsided grin on as he waved at Alex.

He knew him. He knew him- "_Rat?"_

The man approached with concern on his face, a face that was Rat's but it couldn't be, because Rat was- Rat was dead, wasn't he? Yeah, he was dead. So who was this? What was happening?

Alex backed away as the stranger neared. The man stopped, stepping back and raising his hands in a placating motion. "Eel? What's wrong? It's me, Rat. Are you okay?"

"Rat?" he choked. The image of the crumpled corpse wavered tantalisingly before his eyes.  
"Um, yeah. Seriously kid, what's wrong?"

"I-" he choked. "This isn't- you're dead. I saw you die. You- you definitely died. I _saw _it."

"No, Eel. I'm alive, aren't I? It was just a dream."

It was just a dream.

Was it? Was it really? No. He could still smell the coppery tang of blood, taste the salty grief, the terrible guilt. The corpse was still lying back at home, a bullet hole in his forehead, crumpled on the ground. "You're dead." Alex said to the stranger. "I saw it. You're dead."

"Eel. Alex. Of course I'm not-"

"_Don't lie to me!" _he screamed, surprising himself. "This is Scorpia, or something- I know you're trying to trick me, it won't work. Leave me alone!"

"Alex. Listen to me. I'm Rat. I'm not dead. I'm your guardian. We worked together in D Unit in SAS for more than a year. I put a dead eel in the sergeant's cup as a prank once and got you in trouble, so you tipped a bucket of cold water over my head and made me hike three miles in the freezing cold. _I'm not dead._"

"I-" he hesitated, then allowed himself to hope.

This was really happening. Nothing was ruined. It wasn't his fault. It was a _dream. _

"Really?"

"Really." Rat affirmed, and Alex let himself believe it was Rat, because that meant so many things and none of them were bad.

"Why are we here, then? In a hotel?"

"There was an assassin, who shot at us. It shattered the window but I ducked in time- it only hit the ceiling. But you fainted and seemed to be saying something about me dying- you were twitching and everything. The assassin was still shooting at us so I decided it was best to get out of here. We're still in London, in a hotel- I had to carry you here. Damn, you're heavy, Eel."

Alex finally let himself grin. Yeah, there was an assassin after them. That was okay. It was all okay, because Rat was alive.

He stepped forwards to punch Rat in the shoulder for the 'heavy' comment but Rat side stepped his fist and went to the other side of the room, staring out of the window. Alex frowned at him. "Rat?" he said uncertainly.

"Hotel's serving breakfast." he said abruptly. "Five quid. They've got waffles and stuff. Want to go?"

"Um, sure." Alex shrugged, mystified by Rat's behaviour but now on a elated high- everything was perfect! No one was dead!

He hadn't killed anyone.

Life had never tasted better.

They went downstairs, following the signs towards the hotel buffet. A man was standing outside, collecting money. "Just you, young man?" he said cheerfully when Alex neared.

Alex glanced at Rat, who shrugged at him. "Um, no, my guardian-"

"Coming down later? That's fine. Five pounds then, please."

He was confused- Rat was right next to him, couldn't the guy see?- but it was five pounds off, so he handed over a note from his wallet and they walked in. Alex sat over on the little table by the window, taking off his jacket and putting it on the back of his chair before wandering off to the buffet.

Mmm, _waffles. _Not as good as pancakes, admittedly, but still delicious with heaps of melted butter and huge piles of maple syrup. If they reminded him of Jack, that was okay. Because Jack might be dead but Rat wasn't. He was alive. And so everything was okay.

Alex took a plate and piled the waffles on top, taking the maple syrup and squirting it over. His eyes drooped and he decided to make himself a coffee, balancing the plate on one arm and holding the plastic cup with the other as he went back towards the table they were sitting at. He set it down in front for his place and pulled his chair out, collapsing into it and beginning to stuff his face hungrily.

Alex looked up at Rat curiously. His guardian was just sitting there, head propped on his hands, no food in front of him. "Don't you want something to eat?"

"Nah, I'm fine." Rat said, waving him away. Alex looked at him curiously for a moment then shrugged, and continued eating.

When he'd finished both males got up and started walking out of the buffet hall and back up to their rooms, planning as they did so. They'd go back to the house and pick up some stuff, then maybe contact K Unit through a secure means; go to a different hotel, maybe in Birmingham or something. A good plan, a solid plan. A plan which didn't have any dead Rat in it so made it so much better.

Just before they opened the door to their rooms a little girl in a frilly pink dress came up and-

Had she run straight _through _Rat? No, that was stupid. He'd just moved aside at the last moment. Alex's eyes weren't working properly today- it was still that troublesome image from his dream, the image of the corpse that kept waving persistently in front of his eyes as if it was real. Which was silly because Rat was standing there, right in front of him (though whenever Alex reached out to touch him just to make sure Rat would flinch back and move a little bit so Alex couldn't reach and it didn't hurt, no not at all) and it was just the nightmares fucking up his mind like usual.

The little girl- about five years old, he thought- tapped him on the shoulder, looking up with that solemn, innocent stare only young children can do. "'Scuse me, mister." she said politely. "Why are you talking to yourself?"

Alex raised his eyebrows at Rat over the girl's head, who twirled a finger next to his head in the classic sign of 'loopy'. "I wasn't." he told the girl. "Where're your parents, kid?"

"Mummy went mad and started talking to herself like you." the little girl said. "And Daddy's having breakfast."

"...I'm not mad. Well, I am, but not in that way. And anyway, you want me to show you the way to the breakfast bit?"

"No." the kid said cheerfully. "I just wanted to tell you that it's a bad thing to go mad like my Mummy did, and you have to ask for help before it gets really bad."

"Um... thanks?"

"That's okay!"

She skipped away, limp doll hanging from one hand, dress flouncing around her.

Alex reached in his pocket for the key-card and slotted it through the door, laughing with Rat as he did so. "That was one crazy lil kid." Rat chuckled.

"I know, right?" The door swung open and they both stepped in.

There was an awkward moment as Alex pulled off his trainers and Rat inched past him (careful not to even brush him- why didn't he want to touch Alex? Why was he so against that? And no it didn't hurt, he didn't care, not at all) and Rat gestured towards the door- "You were last in!"- "Just shut the door, Alex."- and Alex wondered again at Rat's aversion to touching. Because it didn't seem to be just him, it seemed to be _everything- _the door, him, the food at the buffet- and there was something else, as well; the way no one else but Alex seemed to notice him, the girl who thought he was talking to himself.

Was-

And instantly a barrage of thoughts stopped that line- _no thinking too hard-justshut up- shutupshutupshutup- you ungratefulbrat why do you havetodouble check EVERYTHING- someone finally cares and allyoufuckingdoisdoubt and doubtand doubt- no wonder they've all left you- just stop thinking about that orhe'll leave you too- he'll leaveyou _too- _HE'LL LEAVE YOU TOO-_

And so he stopped along the trail of thought he had been following- what was it again?- and continued with packing. Rat had only bought a few things and he chucked them in haphazardly to the backpacks supplied. He hoisted both up onto his shoulders and looked curiously at the one Rat was sporting, a large blue duffel which had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and which he certainly hadn't seen Rat packing. But that was following along that same troublesome line of thought so he stopped, opened the door and walked out with Rat.

They caught a taxi to their apartment (again with the taxi driver asking him jokingly if he was old enough to be going out on his own- what was that about? Couldn't he see Rat?) and climbed the stairs to the room. Alex groped around in his pocket and found to his relief that the key for the house was still there. He unlocked the door; it swung open with a desolate creak.

(Here the illusion)

(Here it)

(-evaporated-)

(-turned into dust-)

(And all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put that nostalgic dream back together again)

(Now watch as those humans lie, with their lying cries and faking eyes)

(Full of tears at the lies of life as they pretend it's too late not to happen)

(And what they don't understand is that time ticks on, it doesn't care)

(And every second will send them gulping into death's gloomy lair)

There was-

Police tape. And dust.

Police tape? He might've thought distantly, but he was too busy trying to avoid the flickering that seemed to run over Rat's form every so often.

Alex stepped cautiously into his room and started to pile things into it- weapons, clothes, gadgets. He spun into the kitchen, Rat following him like a ghost, and collected food from there as well

(like a ghost)

before cautiously entering the living room.

Rat following him. Like a ghost.

And there was more police tape round here, and signs as if lots of people had been searching the room. The window was shattered- of course, the bullet had gone through there- and there were

(And there were)

(there were)

blood stains everywhere why? Rat said the bullet hadn't hit Rat had said the bullet hadn't _hit anyone-_

"Rat?" he asked slowly, the word sounding heavy and foreign on his tongue, like the name of a dead person.

(Where had that thought come from?)

"I don't understand. What happened?"

Rat watched him, eyes large and luminous and a strange, hollow white.

(Why hadn't he noticed that before?)

"Why is there bloodstains? Talk to me, Rat!"

And his guardian watched and stood and didn't say. A single. Word. And the flickers grew more and more rapid and the corpse picture swam before Alex's eyes but he was hallucinating. Of course he was.

"I'm sorry, Alex." Rat eventually said. But it wasn't Rat, it was someone else speaking through Rat's mouth, someone piercing and echoing and eerie all at the same time. "You know what happened."

And yes, Alex knew.

He knew that he had come running back from where he'd collapsed in the alley the next morning, and packed up a few essentials. He'd booked himself into a hotel, and the next day, when he woke up and saw Rat, he convinced himself it was real. It was a lie, all the time. A façade to hide the grief. A fragile, broken barrier to the pain he would feel if he accepted it. And like all fragile, broken things, it eventually collapsed and here was what happened.

He knew that Rat wasn't even a ghost. That he was a figment of Alex's own lying imagination. That the little girl was right; he was talking to himself; that everyone else was right; there was no one there with him. He was (_alone)._ That Alex could no longer trust his mind. That Rat was dead.

Alex lurched forwards a step, hands grasping towards Rat. The _thing _stood there, not bothering to move, staring at Alex with solemn white eyes.

He went right through the illusion and out the other side.

Alex turned around frantically and watched as the last dregs of the thing he'd created to lie to himself flickered out of existence, and looked down and saw he was standing on his guardian's blood. He took a deep breath in and another out, and stayed still for a moment and listened to the sounds of nothing. The low, fluting sounds of nothing. The high, desperate sounds of nothing.

There was a quite whistle as a man, crouched in the same spot the sniper who had killed Rat had been, sent a spinning object forwards. Alex ducked in time but another was already lower down, embedding itself in his neck.

He pulled the feathered dart loaded with tranqs from his neck with wavering fingers, dropped it on the floor. Looked up, looked round, collapsed.

A few minutes later a man came in and slung Alex's slight, unconscious body over his shoulder. "Mission completed, Miss Jenna." he said quietly into the transmitter. "Where do ya want me to bring him?"

"Scorpia headquarters." came the voice, and then a loud, slightly desperate cackle. "Let it begin."

**Let it begin indeed, Jenna. Let the descent of poor Alex's life straight through hell and round again begin.**

**Cough... that sounded slightly creepy. Just forget I said that, yeah?**

**Ok, so. The reviews I got for last chapter where... let's just say, are you guys trying to tell me something? Like, kill off a character and we'll double the amount of review you normally get?**

**Haha, joking.**

**Seriously, though. 55% of the reviews (so far) included the word NO. 35% had WHY? A measly 7% said something not including those two but that were related to _HE CAN'T BE DEAD _and the final 3% said they should've expected it with all my awesome foreshadowing, but were still upset, but still couldn't wait to see Alex's life go further down the drain.**

**Which it will, I assure you. Though it's a bit disturbing I'm using that as _assurance. _No matter- we of twisted minds must stick together, yes?**

**So, yeah. Review. Please.**

**And HI, NEW READERS!**

**Finally a disclaimer, long overdue; I OWN EVERYTHING, BITCHES. GOT A PROBLEM? TALK TO THE HAND. **

**P.S. Sorry again for the really long wait between updates. And the cliffie on this. Review with what you think is going to happen.**

**OK BIG MESSAGE, REALLY IMPORTANT FOR EVERYONE, PLEASE READ. **

**SO... YOU'VE PROBABLY REALISED THIS STORY IS GOING TO GET DARKER. THERE'S GONNA BE TORTURE AND BRAINWASHING AND STUFF. HOWEVER, I WANT IT TO BE EVEN DARKER; GET INTO HARDCORE TORTURE AND MAYBE SOME RAPE/NON-CON LATER ON. SO MOVE THIS RATING UP TO 'M'. HOWEVER, I'm NOT SURE. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ARE COMFORTABLE WITH THE THINGS THAT COME WITH THE 'M' RATING; IF MORE THAN FIVE PEOPLE DON'T WANT IT, I WON'T DO IT. IF LESS THAN FIVE PEOPLE SPECIFICALLY SAY THEY _DO _WANT IT, I WON'T DO IT. YOUR OPINION REALLY MATTERS. PLEASE DECIDE!**

**(And check out my new story. Thanks!)**


	22. TwEnTY TwO

It's scratching on the walls  
In the closet, in the halls  
It comes awake  
And I can't control it  
Hiding under the bed  
In my body, in my head  
Why won't somebody come and save me from this?  
Make it end!

I feel it deep within,  
It's just beneath the skin  
I must confess that I feel like a monster  
I hate what I've become  
The nightmare's just begun  
I must confess that I feel like a monster  
I, I feel like a monster  
I, I feel like a monster

**Monster, by Skillet**

Alex woke up with his arms bound behind his back, sitting on a wooden, backless stool, head groggy, shadowy room whitewashed and freezing with a single light bulb hanging from a wire directly above him.

He groaned at how obscenely cliché it was. No, really. This was horrifying. He hated to use the age old phrase which happened whenever characters were confronted with this setting and thought _god, cliché much? _But he had to say it; it was like something out an amateur Hollywood film.

Then Rat appeared, he remembered everything, and suddenly the world was that much darker.

"What'd yer want?" he slurred to the ghost, who just smiled at him sadly and flickered- then he was standing directly in front of Alex, ghosting misty fingers over Alex's face.

"You are a failure, Alex." Rat said in an eerie, echoing voice. "You are going to die and I will be here, watching and laughing with Jack as it happens."

He shivered and wrenched his head away from Rat's smoky fingertips. "Not real..." he mumbled at the man. "Rat's dead... ghosts not real..."

"I'm plenty real enough," Rat grinned. No, it wasn't Rat. It was a figment of Alex's imagination. No, that mean he was going mad- he wasn't mad! He wasn't! It was- they were giving him drugs, to hallucinate- yeah, that was it. That was why he felt groggy and saw Rat even though (even though he was _dead) _he shouldn't.

Rat flickered once more at this thought and faded into non-existence.

Alex rolled his head round to get the cricks out of his neck, squinting through the gloom when he'd finished to see more. Wait. Where the hell was he? How did he get here? Last thing he remembered he was in the apartment... collapsing... from the dart. He'd been tranqed. Captured.

Scorpia had got revenge by killing Rat; that was only the start of it.

Alex shivered at the thought of all the pain undoubtedly coming to him. He was going to get _tortured. _OhgodNO- he couldn't do it again, he _couldn't_- where was K Unit? K Unit would come and rescue him. They'd find him and find Rat and they'd all go back and everything would be normal, it _would- _

"Alex Rider." said a woman, stepping out of the shadows. She was wearing a stained black dress that looked as if she'd stepped in it. Her mascara ran down her face in dried tear lines. A hollowness Alex could empathise with was in her eyes and dark circles stood out starkly on the pale skin beneath them. The woman looked like crap- and yet, there was still something in her. And iron rod of strength, born of ferocity, tested by evil. Only alive now for vengeance. "Fifteen years old," she continued, voice dripping with contempt, stepping towards him in bare feet. "And the best spy that the Western world has seen." She paused, and what looked like a hint of disappointment entered her eyes. "Ex-spy now, I suppose. You really are mad?" Alex stayed silent, jaw tensing as she padded closer. "Of course. Who was the non existent person you were talking to right now? Rat?" she continued in a teasing voice, reaching out a slender hand and caressing his face much the way the fake Rat had. "Is that the poor man who we killed?"

And then the hand was joined by another, squeezing round his neck as the woman crouched down to meet his eyes, her fingers gripping and squeezing and choking _help I can't- can't- _"I am going to kill you, Alex Rider." she hissed, her gaze unwavering from his- Alex heard her only faintly, was pulling at his bonds, struggling to breath, struggling to _think- _"Like you killed my James. But first you are in for a world of pain. And I will turn you to our side, and when you are sane again and realize what you've done- and feel a guilt far beyond anything you've ever experienced- only then will I kill you."

He struggled, choked, thought of K Unit. "Never!" he half screamed, half choked into her face, then slid into unconsciousness.

Jenna released her hands from the limp neck and stood up. "I will be back," she said, smiling fondly at the child. "And oh, the things we are going to do, my child-" a hand stroked his hair, "-all the fun we'll have-" she fisted it in the brown hair and pulled the unresisting head up, staring into the unconscious face of her lover's killer. "-and James would be proud."

She thought of him, how he lay next to her, hot and sweaty and beautiful from making love. How he'd whispered in her ear that he only had two rules, and one of them was never to stop loving her. Later, when she wasn't dazed with love and sex and alcohol, she'd inquired to what the other rule was; he'd grinned, shrugged, told her he'd never hurt a child.

"He would be!" she screamed at the unconscious boy, pulling back and punching him full in the face. "He would be! He wants me to do this! He _does!" _Rider only whimpered in his sleep and moved his head slightly to the side. She stared at him again, eyes rimmed with tears, then stormed out of the room.

_**Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc.**_

The two men watching the cameras stared at that particular screen with a sort of horrified fascination. "I almost feel sorry for the kid." one muttered distantly. "That's one crazy bitch."

"You kidding?" the other man snorted. "That's the kid who took down Scorpia. Then turned mad. They're both insane; both evil; both with everyone they ever liked being killed. They suit each other."

"Yeah, well." the man muttered. "I'm still not watching when she starts to torture the boy."

"Neither am I." his companion shuddered. "I might be cold hearted, but no way I'm enjoying something like that."

"How could anyone? But her, obviously. And all the sadistic torturers who lurk around this place."

"Hah. And have you heard the rumors? About the plan?"

"What, the plan with the boy? Where they torture him, break him, drug and brainwash him till he's on our side, then use him as an assassin."

"Yeah- and that poor little Jenna Starrar thinks that after that they're gonna hand him over to her to kill him. As if." he laughed. "They'll probably kill her and keep him on as a lackey. That kid's crazy talented."

"Definitely kill her. I wonder why they're even keeping her in the first place?"

"Bosses like playing games." he shrugged.

"Oh, yeah. Well. Who doesn't?"

"Who doesn't, indeed."

A pause.

"That sounded unnecessarily creepy."

"Sorry."

"..."

"..."

"Do you ever get the feeling we're just being used as plot devices by a lazy author who wants to explain to the readers what's happening and we're never going to be seen again?"

"..."

"..."

"You did take your medication today, right?"

**Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc.**

"Pass me that beer." Monkey yawned, stretching out by the campfire and gesturing to the crate on the side. Eagle picked one out and threw it over sloppily, Monkey leaning sideways to catch it with one hand. He opened it with his teeth and drank down the froth, then started on the liquid, smiling at the burn. "Not as good as whiskey," he told Wolf professionally, who was sitting next to him, beer in hand, staring at the fire. "But still good. Whassup with you, mate?"

"Nothing." Wolf told him, taking a swig of his beer. "Wonder when we're getting back home?"

"Yeah," Eagle slurred. "Mos_' borrring assignment_ 've ever been on. No one ta shoot. No one ta kill. Na'fink ta do."

"I dint understand that, mate." Monkey said with a smile. "But it sounds about right."

"Except," Snake commented dryly, sitting across the fire and rearranging his medical supplies. "You'd kinda think that would be a _good _thing, nae? Less chance of getting killed. No shooting people. More time to daydream."

Eagle stood up and waved his arms around drunkenly as he shouted across to the three other people with beers crowding around the fire. "Join the army! Travel to exotic, distant lands. Meet exciting, unusual people, and kill them."

Monkey smirked sideways at him. "Full Metal Jacket?"

"Yup."

"Love that film."

"I know, 's brilliant."

"Great quote to know for someone who's in the military, isn't it?" Wolf said to Eagle with a raised eyebrow. Eagle shrugged.

"Wasn't my fault. When I told ma family 'was joinin' the army, sis' sent me a loada quotes and told me to research the people or films or books it came fr'm. Long, interestin' job, that was. Still dint' stop me from joining. 'Fink I'm gonna go crash now."

"That's probably a good idea." Wolf nodded, staring at the empty beer cans that surrounded Eagle in piles. He saw Wolf looking and wobbled as if to say _so what? _Then stumbled off to the tent.

K Unit had been deployed in this hot country for around a month now. Fighting was fast dying down so they were due to be sent back to England any time now. For the moment, they were stationed in the desert, watching around for anything that could be important, awaiting further orders from superiors. They spent days training and talking with the locals; the nights patrolling their small camp in pairs (Lion and Leopard were currently on duty) and drinking beer in front of the camp fire. It was mind numbingly boring and there was not one who didn't want to get out of the stiflingly humid atmosphere and back to the stiflingly cold and drizzling conditions of England.

Hah. No, really they were just missing everyone back home; family, friends, and the all too obviously absent Rat and Eel. Past phone calls and visits showed the two friends were getting along well- even if Eel was hating school and Rat groaning over coursework- but K Unit, through mutual assent, knew there was something- something _wrong. _They weren't sure what it was, but with no way to contact home but a radio that went directly to headquarters they had no choice but to wait until they got back to England.

Lion and Leopard came back, evidently having completed their patrol, and collapsed onto the logs the men had pulled around the fire. Monkey wordlessly chucked over beers for them both while Snake and Wolf yawned, stretched, stood up, picked up their guns and muttered goodbye's as they started their patrol. "Where's Eagle?" Lion asked, warming his beer over the fire and turning to Monkey inquisitively.

"Got to drunk, stumbled off to bed."

"That him?" Leopard pointed to the piles of empty cans surrounding one end of the log. Monkey turned to look and nodded.

"There's always one person who can't hold their beer," he commented. "Usually it's Eel, but because he's gone Eagle's stepped up to it."

"You mean there's always one person who acts like a kid." Lion sniggered. "Usually it's Eel, but because he's gone Eagle's stepped up to it."

"You're wrong! I always act like a kid!" came the slightly slurred shout from the tent behind. They all laughed at that.

When Wolf and Snake came back from patrol, Monkey poured water over Eagle to get him out of his drunken daze and start their turn. The other four men sat out a while longer before putting out the fire and huddling into the tent, getting into sleeping bags and rolling to an uneasy, light sleep- one all SAS men needed, to be alert for enemies. One all also needed to stop any nightmares, though still quiet, pained grunts slid from gasping lips in the silence of the night.

Wolf woke them up the next morning with a sombre expression. "We're going back home." he informed them solemnly.

"Why'd you look so sad about that?" Monkey enquired, rolling up his sleeping bag.

"Because Rat and Eel are missing."

"I _knew _they wouldn't last long without us."

**Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc.**

**AROUND FIVE DAYS LATER.**

The gleam in her eyes was beautiful. The sweep of red hair, the pale skin, the kind curve of a smile. Beautiful. The chiming laugh, the tapping fingers, the phone that was never far from her mouth. All beautiful.

The knife in her hand, dripping with blood. The gleam in her eyes, transforming to a sadistic light. The ghostly tint to her skin.

It was beautiful, Alex told himself. Jack was beautiful. She was always beautiful.

Her mouth opened and opened and opened until in was a gaping hole, a gaping, raging black hole swallowing up the entirety of her face, and she was screaming, a high pitched sound that wouldn't stop or slow down or change in anyway- which invaded every corner of his mind, an undulating tremor until

she

(crumbled)

into _ashes and dust, ashes and dust _

_._

There was something about the way she glistened and hung in the air for a precious moment then collapsed into nothing, something about the way her scream hung like an after print of a bright light on his retinas for moments after she was gone, something about the way there seemed to be a visible hole in the air that Jack's ghost had floated that seemed to draw Alex's attention, his gaze never wavering from the place in the darkness where for a single, wonderful second there had been someone who loved him.

_Loved, _past tense. Past tense

(all of it)

him and her and her and her and him and them and those (_faces) _

_LISTEN TO ME MY NAME IS ALEX RIDER I AM DYING I AM NOT MAD I DON'T KNOW WHO I AM I DON'T KNOW WHERE I AM THEY ARE GOING TO SAVE ME THEY ARE COMING THEY WILL SAVE ME_

It descended into a garbled mess, the scratches on the walls which he'd tried to carve words into. Alex had been tied to a chair and sat in the darkness for who knows how long, and when the light bulb ahead flickered for (three minutes, ten seconds, tick tock) every (nine hours and twenty five minutes) he'd inched over to the wall, twisted his arm round, used a jagged fingernail to carve faint words into the grime.

How long had that been? He'd given up when he'd forgotten what he was writing, tilting on his chair and leaning against the wall. The bonds dug into his body and sometimes ghostly people would

_come into the darkness and _

"_say hello, Alex,"_

"_be a _good _boy, say _hello,_"_

_I AM NOT GOING MAD _

He scribbled into the wall. A drop of water carved a burning line on his cheek- a distant moment as Alex wondered where it could've come from, a silent moment as he figured out that he was crying, a listless moment as he remembered that tears

(_they solve nothing, Alex)_

_(nothing at all) _

The light bulb flared to life, a clink as it switched on, flooding the room with a pale, flickering light. Alex immediately began to count, _one, two, three, four..._ and thank god that there was a distraction from the endless loneliness, the solitude of a hallucinating mind, the pain of a dry throat, the hunger that gnawed along with dread and fear.

_I'm scared, imscaredimscaredimscaredhelpmeimscaredim_

There it was, that pale thread of writing he'd done earlier when the light had blinked on; a moment where the fear of the pain had overwhelmed him so much he'd blurted out words and scribbled down and counted in his mind until the light went off.

_Fifty nine, one minute. Two minutes and ten seconds left until the light goes off. One, two, three, four, five..._

"Eel."

There. In the patch of darkness where Jack had screamed for those few seconds, another figure now appeared. Broad shouldered, tall, same ghostly tint to tanned skin as Jack. Steel gray eyes, long sandy blonde hair that drifted in a breeze Alex couldn't feel.

Bullet hole in forehead. Clenched fists.

"Rat?" The sound of his own voice was familiar. Alex had talked to himself in these (five days and three hours, says the clock) of solitude, and talked to the figures from the past that visited.

"Eel, you gotta listen to me. You have to get out of here."

Alex grinned at Rat. "You're dead." he said. "You don't know anything."

"Eel, please." he spread his hands, looking at Alex desperately. "You _have _to."

"Said you hated me. Said it was my fault. Said you'd watch while I died and laughed."

"That wasn't me! That was- a hallucination, or something. I love you, Alex. You're my brother. You have to get out of here."

Alex grinned wider. "You're a hallucination too."

The man's expression dropped. "Okay, yes. I am. But don't you understand? They're making you weak with solitude, and then _she's _going to come back and torture you. Do you want that?"

"I don't want to be tortured." Alex muttered, but shrugged at the man, eyes flickering to his bonds. "Can't get free."

Rat sighed, a long, ghostly sigh that expelled a stream of solid gray air- with each second passing, the color was leached from his own body and sent into the mist coming out of his mouth and dispersing in the open air. Eventually Rat faded, nothing but a glimpse of a lost man. "Don't go," Alex might've whispered, but the clock's tick was sounding loud and he had to count.

Couldn't lose track of time.

_Five days, one hour, two minutes, three seconds. Four seconds. Five seconds. Six seconds. _

Alex shuddered back in his chair with a start as the door swung open. Silent figures swarmed in, a knife cutting his bonds, a hand prodding him to stand up- he was too weak to walk to simply collapsed on the floor, the figures lifting him up with quiet murmurs and dragging him out.

He was aware

(amidst the fear of pain, the pain)

of winding corridors and hard faces with guns readied at their sides, and two heavy doors that opened to a sterile white room, chains on one side, sharp instruments on the other. A woman in a ragged black dress with bare feet and desperate, angry eyes ordered him hung from the chains.

The figures retreated and Alex Rider was left alone in a torture room with Jenna Starrar, who picked up a hammer and whispered that it was all for James.

**You know what's coming next chapter.**

**Yup. Ultra hardcore torture. Angst. More insanity. _Lots _more insanity.**

**So... reviews. 99.5 percent of you wanted it cramped up to M, full works, everything as dark as possible. The remaining point five percent wanted it darker but no non-con. **

**So; there will be torture, this will be M, but I promise; no non-con. Not a hint. Not a single bit. _But _the torture will be bad, and as you can see; Alex is slowly (ok, not so slowly) getting madder. This is for mature readers only. If any of it will trigger you in anyway, please refrain from reading. **

**Alternatively; I will put warnings on top of all the chapters coming which contain torture. You can just skip the ones that hold warnings.**

**And for those who got the Green Day reference in the chapter title last chapter; COOKIES! (::) (:.) (.:) (..) for Snowflake Heart, ResistanceInMotion, Fang and Altair, Scooterrstripes and all the guests. (Yeah, all two of you.) I admit, I'm not a huge fan of Green Day; I searched the number '21' for ideas for chapter titles, it came up with that, and since I knew the song I added it.**

**I have a new story up. Tony Is (Not) An Annoying, Scrawny Brat. Featuring my typical angsty teen boys with crappy lives, a.k.a teenage Tony in normal age Avengers, non Iron Man, new job, lots of angst.**

**Thanks. Review!**


	23. 23 (Moments of Sanity)

**WARNING: Severe torture. Angst. Severe torture. Insanity. Bad language. Severe torture. Graphic descriptions of violence. Sadistic tendencies. Permanent disablities; this isn't gonna be, he gets tortured and the only repercussions are mental torment and maybe a fluffy stint in hospital when he gets rescued. This story is now rated 'M'. Things are getting darker. There will be major and permanent consequences which are _physical _and will stay with him for the rest of Alex's life. Also the mental torment and maybe the fluffy stint in hospital (probably not) but the physical tolls are. Going. To. Be. Bad.**

**Also, this is probably chock full of triggers; don't read if any of the above sound slightly bad. We'll be over the torture bits in maybe a few chapters, then those of you who are squeamish can get back to reading.**

_If you could count the skeletons in my closet_

_Under my bed and up under my faucet, _

_Then you would know I've completely lost it_

_Is he nuts? No, he's INSANE_

Insane, by Eminem

**_Chapter;_ 23 (Moments of Sanity)**

Cold chains cinched tight around his wrists, a strain from hanging from his arms beginning to protest amidst

(the fear of the pain, the pain)

the crowd of other thoughts that strung dizzyingly through his confused mind.

I AM NOT MAD NOT MAD MAD IM NOT!

He'd written, in another time, along the wall. And yeah, he believed it. Alex wasn't going mad. He _wasn't. _

The wall was cold behind his thin clothes, his back pressing painfully into the hard surface. Alex's feet hung just above the floor- if he stretched, he could reach it and rest on his feet to take the pressure off his arms, but then his wrists would chafe at the restriction- already they were beginning to bleed, the skin splitting and thin streams of hot trickling down his cold skin. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, the ever present pain and fear of pain and tentative probing of mental pain in the form of a gnawing black edge of insanity, a swallowing black hole of insanity blooming in the midst of his tumbling thoughts and devouring them outwards; slashes of black insanity, staining his very vision with tints of black red. Thoughts black with insanity, creeping in spidery formations and crouching and whispering and ruining everything he thought was right or true or dear; twisting and turning until he couldn't even trust himself, couldn't work between dreams or nightmares or hallucinations or memories or that cold, painful, so confusing scape of actual reality.

The woman in a ripped dress- which was, though revealing, not attractive in the slightest, instead seeming to add to the general madness and cruelty that came off her figure in waves- had a slight smile on her lips, a distant look in her eyes as the guards exited and closed the door behind them. She surveyed Alex with that same distant look, as if seeing him but communicating with someone else, a look Alex knew all too well.

Jenna stepped over to the wall upon which hung arrays of sharp or blunt instruments, looking complicated and painful. Alex felt the edge of insanity rear up in response to the sudden fear he felt.

He

(couldn't do this again, it was _too much)_

did everything he could to escape (_this_) so Why?

Why was it happening again? And oh god it wasn't fair, he thought people _cared _about him, why weren't they there why weren't they stopping this why weren't they stopping the slow but purposeful way Jenna picker up the hammer and ran a finger along it's heavy stone and walked over to him and- and-

She reached up to Alex's arms, unlocking one manacle and pulling a table closer in front of him. Alex immediately began to struggle, using his one freed hand to aim wild punches with as much force as a boy with time done in darkness and madness could, shifting closer to the woman, kicking out in grunts and trying desperately to _stop the horror _he _knew _was _coming._

Jenna ignored his weak struggles, even letting the blows land on her; they were obviously to ineffective to hurt, or else she didn't care. She caught his right hand in hers and laid it on the table, a cold, methodical appearance entering her manner as she secured his hand to the table. Alex could only watch and blurt out hoarse, jumbled murmurs of curses, streams of garbled words threaded through with that terrible, undeniable fear so incomprehensible; even if his torturer cared or heard, since the dead look in her eyes as she performed the tasks was as terrifying as if she'd been shouting at him, raging, cursing, letting loose random blows- more terrifying, because rage meant mistakes, mistakes meant opportunities. And without opportunities and obviously no one coming to rescue him, there was no chance of Alex avoiding-

Jenna raised the hammer and bought it down on his little finger.

Alex felt a scream torn from him as pain ricocheted up his hand and exploded in every fibre of his being. He shut it off to a whimper, some old rebellious instinct long lost (or so he'd thought) in the tide of betrayals warning him to _stop showing weakness, stop letting them know they've won. _

_Even if it hurts. _And by god, it hurt.

Jenna surveyed the hand, pale and spread eagled on the table, secured with chains. The little finger was cracked and strangely flattened. Drops of blood squeezed out of the white parchment. The boy was obviously pained by it, screaming as the blow fell, whimpering now, staring at his ruined hand with an intensity that bordered on insanity.

But, he was mad. Clinically, even.

And she was too- that was the problem. Revenge, here, was theonly thing that mattered.

The hand still looked vaguely whole, colour beginning to return to it as if recovering from shock, calluses on the fingers from hours with guns relaxing slightly. Jenna raised the hammer again and with perfect precision bought it down, hard, on the little finger.

Alex screamed again, not caring this time about showing weakness, tears pouring down his face as his still trapped arm writhed and legs kicked out. Jenna ignored this and bought the hammer down again on the splintered mess, breath coming out only slightly heavier as she hammered down his finger with full force.

"_My other rule?" _James whispered from somewhere in the haven of soft lit memories. _"I never hurt children." _

The smile grew wider on her face, stretching it in a wild grin and she made no sound as she obliterated a finger. Rider screamed and cried and struggled and she ignored it all, only stopping when the fifth digit on the hand was nothing but a thin sheet of shards and blood and torn skin, pulp dripping from the cut from the hand.

It was ugly. Disgusting. If she had not forced herself to desensitise to what she was doing Jenna would have certainly been sick. But yet, there was still a certain pride in which she regarded the hand, perfect except for the little finger, which was practically gone. It was an art, she realised. The art of torture.

The boy was sobbing and crying pathetically, awakening something in her which was to foreign for her liking. She just held back a strain, eyes narrowing as Jenna surveyed the weak body. She strode up and punched him, once, in the guts; he was unable to double over and just coughed out a curse. Jenna rained a series of merciless blows on his torso, punches getting harder the longer the beating went on. Something broke, some memory of James' eyes, his skin, his tapered hands, deep laugh; grunts escaped her lips and Jenna started kicking him on his legs, swiping across his face, punching his stomach. He was whimpering, and this only increased her anger and sense of loss; she pulled her hand back and punched him in the nose, his head snapping back against the wall.

It was with a start Jenna realised the boy was unconscious and a bloody pulp, hanging on the wall with one hand secured to a table and one finger missing. She stepped back and stumbled over the hammer which she had dropped on the floor at some point.

Jenna took the chains off the child, pulling his unconscious body onto a chair and tying a series of ropes loosely around his torso and legs. She found a bucket in the corner of the room and filled it up with frigid water from the tap, then dumped it over Alex and sat back to watch him awake and continue the torture.

_**Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc.**_

The ride back to UK was tense with worry, all six members of K Unit with thoughts of their absent friends on their mind. Yet, it was also with a sense of happiness they boarded the plane; going back home was always a cause for celebration, no matter what the circumstances.

There were a few good films on, which Monkey and Eagle watched and the rest ignored in favour of completing paperwork for the mission, of which there was a lot. Most likely the two men watching films would beg the other members to complete their paperwork anyway. The plane food was bland and horrible (main course lukewarm and lumpy, desert full of raisins and salt) and they sucked mints when the plane went down to stop their ears popping.

They arrived at the Gatwick airport in London and were driven straight to SAS headquarters, debriefed then sent on their way with a year's leave to concentrate on finding the missing former members of their unit. K Unit caught a taxi to the apartment where Rat and Alex lived. "God, I hate these stairs." Eagle groaned as they trooped up.

"Stop complaining. Rat and Eel could be dead!"

"Or they couldn't." Eagle pointed out in a reasonable tone. Everyone stopped and turned to stare at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Snake said, looking away first and shaking his head mock sadly. Eagle scowled at him.

Wolf looked at the door, with gold letters reading '78' stencilled on the worn, cracked wood, as if trying to see what was wrong with it. "Anyone got a key?" he asked absently as his fellow unit members joined him.

"Naw, Rat gave me a spare but I lost it." Eagle said.

Monkey frowned. "Yeah, he gave me a spare as well but I left it at home."

"Typical." Lion sighed. "Giving the only two spare keys to the people most likely to lose it."

"Hey!" Monkey protested. "I didn't lose it, I left it at home!"

"Whatever," Leopard dismissed. "Real issue- how are we going to get in? All the guy Wolf spoke to said was that they were missing. They won't answer their phones, so they probably are. There's gonna be clues in the apartment- but none of us have a key, so-"

Wolf took three steady steps back, then charged towards the door shoulder first. It splintered under his weight and he gave it a few heavy kicks before it broke in.

"So we could do that." Leopard finished, and stepped in.

Eagle gave a low whistle as he surveyed the broken door. "That never works for me. I thought it was just for movies."

Monkey gave him a disparaging look. "You should know that anything needing only brute force and absolutely no brain is not just for movies when it comes to _Wolf." _

Eagle laughed and Wolf grunted at the thinly veiled insult. "C'mon," he said, refusing to be drawn into a petty insulting match that the less mature members of the unit (cough Eagle Monkey Rat Eel cough) loved to indulge in. "Let's go in."

The apartment was a scattered mess of broken objects and bagged items, police tape stringing round everywhere and tramped footsteps defined clearly on insignificant belongings. They followed cautiously into the living room, the mood suddenly sombre between the men and a stench of foreboding echoing like warning drums in their ears. The living room had a shattered window and more police tape, the carpet covered in dried black blood and suspicious congealed lumps.

Eagle turned and fake retched.

All unit members paced around the room, expressions frozen in shock as they surveyed what only could be a tragedy. They started when footsteps were heard and a middle aged woman in a blue dress appeared in the living room, expression one of shock. "Hello?" she said hesitantly. "I'm Doreen, I live next door- I heard someone go in, are you the police?"

"No, ma'am." Wolf said, instantly transforming into stern-important-definitely-on-legal-business-head- of-unit-tough-army-guy. "We're SAS, and investigating the disappearance of the two residents of this apartment. Can you tell us anything?"

"Of course," she nodded, sitting down on the one armchair not stained by blood. "I already told the police, but this is what happened; there was a gun shot here, and I came out of my apartment to see a boy of about fifteen years old with blonde hair running out. I went back to my apartment and tried to call the police, but someone had somehow stolen my mobile and the phone lines were cut. I was too scared to go out again so waited until the next morning to go out of my apartment and down into the police station and tell them what happened. They went back to the apartment and there was no one there; but there was blood which, when tested, came up as matching the DNA of an ex-SAS medic." she peered at them curiously. "Do you know him?"

None of K Unit deigned to answer, going over what she said in their heads; the boy, that must be Alex. And a gun shot- so Rat was shot? And then maybe Rat was injured, saw the shooter, told Alex to run and disappear without him to get away from the shooter?

(They refused to believe it was because Rat was dead.)

(Then there would be a corpse or something, right? Right?)

"Thank you, ma'am." Wolf said eventually. "I think we're going to leave now."

"Wait! There's more!" she interrupted. Wolf turned back to her and raised an eyebrow to signal she should continue. "Well, two days later the same boy who had ran out walked back in. I was going to go after him but some guy in black with a gun in his hands was following him in- I immediately went back into my apartment and called the police, but the time they had got there the man was already carrying the now unconscious boy away in a get away car. The police gave chase but they escaped." All six men felt something deep in their gut, a stirring of foreboding and desperate fear for their friends. "The police think... he's been kidnapped."

_Oh, god. _

**Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc.**

Alex shuddered awake and instantly groaned at the pain pulsing from every nerve of his body. His stomach was especially hurt and breathing was hard through compressed lungs- he'd probably cracked a few ribs, at the least- and a raging headache thundered with vengeance, a stew of pain bundling from the whole of his battered body. He was damp, as well, cold water seeping through tattered clothes His wrists still bled from hanging from chains and an ache still resided in his shoulders and upper arm for the same reason, and- oh god, she'd hammered off a finger. She'd _hammered it off. _A fresh stream of pain shot from the now phantom digit and Alex tried to focus on the thought that it was only a finger, not a hand or an arm or a limb or anything it was _only a fucking finger- _

"You're awake." Jenna said, sitting in front of him. Sitting? Oh, he was bound to a chair- not that that was any better, because he was unable to move for pain clenching every sense.

Alex flinched from her voice and the shadow of Rat standing softly behind her. He blinked, the shadow disappeared, the implication remained.

"Say something, boy." she hissed.

"You're a fucking selfish little bitch who takes some sadistic pleasure out of torturing children and you'll rot in hell along with your dead lover."

He was proud of that, not in the least because his voice hadn't shaken or broke once; it was hoarse from days (hours? Weeks? Months) of misuse spent in that room, hoarse from screams as she destroyed his finger, but clear enough and not insane at all, full of spite and disgust and aloof hate and everything he didn't feel about this woman.

She leaned forwards and punched him in the stomach, hard. Alex grunted and leaned forwards slightly, trying to double over as breath was torn from him but unable to because of the ropes around his torso. Stars appeared before his eyes at the renewed pain, as well as a delicate picture of a moon stained with blood, bright with red, thick liquid and torn skin draping over pure white elegance. The moon faded in his vision but stayed as he straightened again, a non existent orb hanging next to Jenna's head.

Well, he already knew he was mad.

"I thought you'd lost all the fight." Jenna remarked, leaning back. "You spent a week locked in a room in solitude. We killed everyone you loved in front of your eyes. I started torturing you; and still you haven't broken."

Alex didn't think to speak or reply to any other of her statement, mind whirring desperately around the words _started torturing. _Of course that wouldn't be it; of course it was just the beginning; but he hurt, hurt so much-

"Though," she mused. "I don't think an insane person _can _be broken. I mean, their mind is already in pieces, right?"

He forced a scowl on his bruised face. Every instinct ingrained from years in the spy world was telling him to back down, submit, not aggravate his captor any more than possible; every sense that a teenager had in them, of rebelliousness and burning anger and hatred of people who did things to them that were not right told him to protest, anger her, insult her. As much as possible. Before he died.

The teenage side of him was long out of use but he deployed it now. The spy side was riddled with insanity and pain; he let the other side take over and for maybe an hour he would be as a normal teenager. Or as normal as a teenager could be when trapped in a room with a crazy bitch who took sadistic pleasure out of torturing kids.

(Oh wait, he'd already used that line.)

"You would know," he sneered at her. "Little Jamesy-wamesy dying put your mind in pieces, didn't it?"

She froze, stared at him dangerously. "What the _fuck _did you just say?"

He repeated.

Her mouth twisted into an ugly grimace. "I am going to kill you for that."

He glared straight back. "You were already. I'm not sure what James would have to say about it, but seriously, go ahead!"

She screamed at him, a short animalistic sound of raw pain and agony and loss that struck nothing inside of Alex because he had experienced that, and more, and this was a person who had caused everything that hurt right now. "Stop talking about James! You know nothing! _Nothing!" _

"Struck a chord, have I?" he cooed. "Oh you poor, poor fucker. I feel for you, I really do."

Her chair scraped back as she stood up and literally ran over to the wall behind Alex, a loud clanking and hissing sound from behind him. Alex tried to crane his neck but found any movement hurt- strangulation bruises still wrapped his neck, and something was wrong with it, he couldn't move it very far- Jenna had punched it in her beating, it must've been that. "What are you doing?" he asked. "More torture instruments?" Another loud hiss and smell of burning. Alex began to feel very, very afraid. "Nothing you can do that hasn't already been done. You might as well kill me and get over it; that way I'll see your lover in hell before you, and tell him what a fucking bitch you are and how he should be glad that-"

He was cut off as a hand yanked his jaw open. Three seconds later he was unable to scream and the bloodied moon erupted into flames.

**Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc. Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider Alex Rider etc., etc.**

_23 seconds, Alex lasted. 23 seconds in the pain, the terrible burning agonising stinging shouting screaming raging roaring tearing booming screeching shrieking crying yelling prickling cutting stabbing pain._

_23 seconds of sanity, before he broke._

_His mind came together- _1, 2, 3, 4- _everything sharp and clear and perfect, all the insanity and darkness disappearing- _9, 10, 11, 12, 13-_ as pieces of his mind and heart he'd thought he'd lost forever- memories, ability to distinguish between reality and dreams, love, happiness- _17, 18, 19, 20, 21- _snapped back. The bloody moon disappeared, Rat stayed dead and gone and lost, memories filed back into correct positions and stopped trying to invade._

_For a precious second, he was _whole. Twenty two seconds.

_And then- _**23- **_his mind broke completely and utterly and pain invaded in a burning stream of hot lava, washed away everything that could have been, everything good about him that remained, and left behind jagged black shapes of growing hate, torture, loss, anger._

_Insanity._

**Dun dun dun...**

**Okay, so, the torture; it gets worse. And like I said at the top, this isn't your run of mill torture fic. This is an actual whole growing story and the torture is just a phase in it. Things that happen in these chapters are going to stay with Alex for his whole life. Physical disfigurements are going to make him an outcast if he ever gets free. Damage done will last forever, limit him in ways that will make healing his mind even worse- if it ever even gets a chance to heal, because he could, you know, die. I could end this fic at 24, 25 chapters by killing Alex in the torture.**

**What? It _could _happen.**

**F. A. Q'S! Answers to the questions so many of you have asked, right now, in a huge A/N that will hopefully not bore you to death.**

**First.**

_**How long is this story gonna be?**_

**I have no idea. The plan is three pages. I've completed one page of the plan, so this is one third of the story; we maybe 160k words left. (Oh god, that is so daunting.)**

_**Sequel? Prequel? Companion story?**_

**Ok, no one actually asked that. But I'm answering it anyway. No to sequel; this fic will be in parts, a month gap between every part, quite a few parts, and sequels will come in one fic. Yes to prequel; maybe a one shot of everything that happened _before _when I have a bit of time. Probably no to companion story. I'd have no idea what to write.**

_**Music tastes? **_

**Again, not a question. But loadsa people commented on it. Thank you! I love most of the bands I put up there too. Especially Skillet. Awesome, man. **

_**Are you crazy enough to kill Alex?**_

**Surprising how many people asked this. Answer; I wasn't thinking about it, but now you've given me the idea it seems like a pretty good ending... joking. Alex won't die. Maybe. Probably. Not.**

_**Is Rat really dead?**_

**Alex did see him die... shot in the head, actually. But. You see here that K Unit find Rat is missing. Has someone taken his body? Or is he alive, and has somehow got away? And Alex is obviously insane, and you saw in 21 Guns, Lay Down Your Arms that you can't really trust anything in his POV. Though if he is alive, he would've contacted K unit by now. So many contradictions... so much mystery... yeah, he's probably dead. Or not. I'm gonna leave you guys to make your own conclusions.**

_**Chapter titles?**_

**Thanks everyone who commented on them! Yeah, I'm pretty proud myself. BUT. As you can see, quality of chapter titles is FAILING. I am running FAST out of ideas. I NEED suggestions for chapter titles! Last chapter, I did random capitals in the words 'twenty two'. How much more unimaginative can you get? So I need ideas for chapter titles (in the basic theme I've been doing them) from about 24-60. And please don't ignore this like you did LAST time I asked for help. And please ignore the random words in CAPS that have popped up this paragraph. They're really weird.**

**If you got any more questions, just ask. I'll answer.**

**About K Unit; that was the last of them you'll see for quite a while, sorry. My writing fast dried up when I write them without Alex. They'll come back soon, but for now you're just gonna have miles and miles of angsty, insane, tortured Alex.**

**Bliss.**

**Remember to review, good luck at torture camp (school), don't do what I'm doing and write/read fanfiction instead of homework, greetings to all new readers, follow and favourite, thank you, good bye.**


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